










THE LATE MRS NULL 


BY 

FRANK R. STOCKTON 

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NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS 
1891 



Copyright, iS86, 

By CHARLES SCRIBNER^S SONS. 

■T TRANSFER 
JUN S I90r 



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Press of J. J. Little & Co, 
Astor Place, New York. 


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THE LATE MRS NULL. 


CHAPTER I. 

There was a wide entrance gate to the old family 
mansion of Midbranch, but it was never opened to 
admit the family or visitors ; although occasionally 
a load of wood,‘drawn by two horses and two mules, 
came between its tall chestnut posts, and was taken 
by a roundabout way among the trees to a spot at 
the back of the house, where the chips of several 
generations of sturdy wood-choppers had formed a 
ligneous soil deeper than the arable surface of any 
portion of the nine hundred and fifty acrer which 
formed the farm of Midbranch. This seldon^ opened 
gate was in a corner of the lawn, and the driving of 
carriages, or the riding of horses through it to the 
porch at the front of the house would have been the 
ruin of the short, thick grass which had covered that 
lawn, it was generally believed, ever since Virginia 
became a State. 

But there had to be some way for people who 
came in carriages or on horseback to get into the 
house, and therefore the fence at the bcttom of 

> . 

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2 


The Late Mrs Null, 


the lawn, at a point directly in front of the porch, 
was crossed by a set of broad wooden steps, five out¬ 
side and five inside, with a platform at the top. 
These stairs were wide enough to accommodate eight 
people abreast; so that if a large carriage load of 
visitors arrived, none of them need delay in crossing 
the fence. At the outside of the steps ran the 
narrow road which entered the plantation a quarter 
of a mile away, and passed around the lawn and the 
garden to the barns and stables at the back. 

On the other side of the road, undivided from it 
by hedge or fence, stretched, like a sea gently moved 
by a groundswell, a vast field, sometimes planted in 
tobacco, and sometimes in wheat. In the midst of 
this field stood a tall persimmon tree which yearly 
dropped its half-candied fruit upon the first light 
snow of the winter. It is true that persimmons, 
quite fit to eat, were to be found on this tree at an 
earlier period than this, but such fruit was never 
noticed by the people in those parts, who would not 
rudely wrench from Jack Frost his one little claim 
to rivalry with the sun as a fruit-ripener. To the 
right of the field was a wide extent of pasture land, 
running down to a small stream, or “ branch,” which, 
flowing between two other streams of the same kind 
a mile or two on either side of it, had given its name 
to the place. In front, to the left, lay a great forest 
of chestnut, oak, sassafras, and sweet gum, with here 
and there a clump of tall pines, standing up straight 
and stiff with an air of Puritanic condemnation of 
the changing fashions of the foliage about them. 



The Late Mrs Null. 


3 


On one side of the platform of the broad stile, 
which has been mentioned, sat one summer after¬ 
noon, the lady of the house. She was a young woman, 
and although her face was a good deal shadowed by 
her far-spreading hat, it was easy to perceive that 
she was a handsome one. She was the niece of Mr 
Robert Brandon, the elderly-bachelor who owned 
Midbranch; and her mother, long since dead, had 
called her Roberta, which was as near as she could 
come to the name of her only brother. 

Miss Roberta’s father was a man whose mind and 
time were entirely given up to railroads; and al¬ 
though he nominally lived in New York, he was, for 
the greater part of the year, engaged in endeavors to 
forward his interests somewhere west of the Missis¬ 
sippi. Two or three months of the winter were 
generally spent in his city home. At these times he 
had his daughter with him, but the rest of the year 
she lived with her uncle, whose household she di¬ 
rected with much good will and judgment. The old 
gentleman did not keep her all the summer at Mid¬ 
branch. He knew what was necessary for a young 
lady who had been educated in Germany and Swit¬ 
zerland, and who had afterwards made a very favor¬ 
able impression in Paris and London; and so, during 
the hot weather, he took her with him to one of 
the fashionable Southern resorts, where they always 
stayed exactly six weeks. 

The gentleman who was sitting on the other side 
of the platform, with his face turned towards her, 
had known Miss Roberta for a year or more, having 


4 


The Late Mrs NtdL 


met her at the North, and also in the Virginia 
mountains; and being now on a visit to the Green 
Sulphur Springs, about four miles from Midbranch, 
he rode over to see her nearly every day. There 
was nothing surprising in this, because the Green 
Sulphur, once a much frequented resort, had seen 
great changes, and now, although the end of the 
regular season had not arrived, it had Mr Lawrence 
Croft for its only guest. There was a spacious 
hotel there ; there was a village of cottages of vary¬ 
ing sizes; there were buildings for servants and 
managers; there was a ten-pin alley and a quoit 
ground ; there were arbors and swings; and a square 
hole in a stone slab, through which a little pool of 
greenish water could be seen, with a tin cup, some¬ 
what rusty, lying by it. But all was quiet and de¬ 
serted, except one cottage, in which the man lived 
who had charge of the place, and where Mr Croft 
boarded. It was very pleasant for him to ride over 
to Midbranch and take a walk with Miss Roberta; 
and this was what they had been doing to-day. 

Horseback rides had been suggested, but .Mr 
Brandon objected to these. He knew Mr Croft to 
be a young man of good family and very comfort¬ 
able fortune, and he liked him very much when he 
had him there to dinner, but he did not wish his 
niece to go galloping around the country with him. 
To quiet walks in the woods, and through the 
meadows, he could, of course, have no objection. A 
good many of Mr Brandon’s principles, like certain 
of his books, were kept upon a top shelf, but Miss 



The Late Mrs Null, 


5 


Roberta always liked to humor the few which 
the old gentleman was wont to have within easy 
reach. 

This afternoon they had rambled through the 
woods, where the hard, smooth road wound pictur¬ 
esquely through the places in which it had been 
easiest to make a road, and where the great trunks 
of the trees were partly covered by clinging vines, 
which Miss Roberta knew to be either Virginia 
creeper or poison oak, although she did not remem¬ 
ber which of these had clusters of five leaves, and 
which of three. 

The horse on which, Mr Croft had ridden over 
from the Springs was tied to a fence near by, and he 
now seemed to indicate by his restless movements 
that it was quite time for the gentleman to go home ; 
but with this opinion Mr Croft decidedly differed. 
He had had a long walk with the lady and plenty of 
opportunities to say anything that he might choose, 
but still there was something very important which 
had not been said, and which Mr Croft very much 
wished to say before he left Miss Roberta that after¬ 
noon. His only reason for hesitation was the fact 
that he did not know what he wished to say. 

He was a man who always kept a lookout on 
the bows of his daily action ; in storm or in calm, in 
fog or in bright sunshine that lookout must be at 
his post; and upon his reports it depended whether 
Mr Croft set more sail, put on more steam, reversed 
his engine, or anchored his vessel. A report from 
this lookout was what he hoped to elicit by the- re- 


6 


The Late Mrs NulL 


mark which he wished to make. He desired greatly 
to know whether Miss Roberta March looked upon 
him in the light of a lover, or in that of an intimate 
acquaintance, whose present intimacy depended a 
good deal upon the propinquity of Midbranch and 
the Green Sulphur Springs. He had endeavored to 
produce upon her mind the latter impression. If he 
ever wished her to regard him as a lover he could 
do this in the easiest and most straightforward way, 
but the other procedure was much more difficult, 
and he was not certain that he had succeeded in it. 
How to find out in what light she viewed him with¬ 
out allowing the lady to perceive his purpose was a 
very delicate operation. 

“ I wish,” said Miss E-oberta, poking with the end 
of her parasol at some half-withered wild flowers 
which lay on the steps beneath her, “ that you would 
change your mind, and take supper with us.” 

Mr Croft’s mind was very busy in endeavoring to 
think of some casual remark, some observation re¬ 
garding man, nature, or society, or even an anecdote 
or historical incident, which, if brought into the 
conversation, might produce upon the lady’s coun¬ 
tenance some shade of expression, or some variation 
in her tone or words which would give him the in¬ 
formation he sought for. But what he said was: 
“ Are they really suppers that you have, or are they 
only teas ? ” 

Now I know,” said the lady, “why you have 
sometimes taken dinner with us, but never supper. 
You were afraid that it would be a tea.” 


The Late Mrs Null. 


7 


Lawrence Croft was' thinking that if this girl 
believed that he was in love with her, it would make 
a great deal of difference in his present course of 
action. If such were the case, he ought not to 
come here so often, or, in fact, he ought not to come 
at all, until he had decided for himself what he 
was going to do. But what could he say that would 
cause her, for the briefest moment, to unveil her 
idea of himself. I never could endure,” he said, 
“ those meals which consist of thin shavings of bread 
with thick plasters of butter, aided and abetted by 
sweet cakes, preserves, and tea.” 

‘‘You should have reserved those remarks,” she 
said, “ until you had found out what sort of evening 
meal we have.” 

He could certainly say something, he thought. 
Perhaps it might be some little fanciful story which 
would call up in her mind, without his appearing to 
intend it, some thought of his relationship to her as 
a lover—that is, if she had ever had such a notion. 
If this could be done, her face would betray the fact. 
But, not being ready to make such a remark, he 
said: “ I beg your pardon, but do you really have 
suppers in the English fashion ? ” 

“ Oh, no,” answered Miss Roberta, “ we don’t 
have a great cold joint, with old cheese, and pitchers 
of brown stout* and ale, but neither do we content' 
ourselves with thin bread and butter, and preserves. 
We have coffee as well as tea, hot rolls, fleecy and 
light, hot batter bread made of our finest corn meal, 
hot biscuits and stewed fruit, with plenty of sweet 


8 


The Late Mrs Null. 


milk and buttermilk; and, if anybody wants it, he 
can always have a slice of cold ham.” 

“If I could only feel sure,” thought Mr Croft, 
“ that she looked upon me merely as an acquaintance, 
I would cease to trouble my mind on this subject, 
and let everything go on as before. But I am not 
sure, and I would rather not come here again until 
I am.” “And at what hour,” he asked, “do you 
partake of a meal like that ? ” 

“ In summer time,” said Miss Roberta, “ we have 
supper when it is dark enough to light the lamps. 
My uncle dislikes very much to be deprived, by the 
advent of a meal, of the out-door enjoyment of a 
late afternoon, or, as we call it down here, the eve¬ 
ning.” 

“ It would be easy enough,” thought Mr Croft, 
“ for me to say something about my being suddenly 
obliged to go away, and then notice its effect upon 
her. But, apart from the fact that-1 would not do 
anything so vulgar and commonplace, it would not 
advantage me in the slightest degree. She would 
see through the flimsiness of my purpose, and, no 
matter how she looked upon me, would show nothing 
but a well-bred regret that I should be obliged to go 
away at such a pleasant season.” “ I think the hour 
for your supper,” said he, “ is a very suitable one^ 
but I am not sure that such a variety of hot bread 
would agree with me.” 

“Did you ever see more healthy-looking ladies 
and gentlemen than you find in Virginia ?” asked 
Miss March. 


The Late Mrs Null. 


9 


‘‘ It is not that I want to know if she looks favor¬ 
ably upon me,” said Lawrence Croft to himself, “ for 
when I wish to discover that, I shall simply ask her. 
What I wish now to know is whether, or not, she 
considers me at all as a lover. There surely must 
be something I can say which will give me a clew.” 
“The Virginians, as a rule,” he replied, “ are cer¬ 
tainly a very well-grown and vigorous race.” 

“ In spite of the hot bread,” she said with a 
smile. 

Just then Mr Croft believed himself struck by a 
happy thought. “ You are not prepared, I suppose, 
to say, in consequence of it; and that recalls the 
fact that so much in this world happens in spite of 
things, instead of in consequence of them.” 

“ I don’t know that I exactly understand,” said 
Miss Roberta. 

“ Well, for instance,” said Mr Croft, “ take the 
case of marriage. Don’t you think that a man is 
more apt to marry in spite of his belief that he 
would be much better off as a bachelor, than in con¬ 
sequence of a conviction that a Benedict’s life would 
suit him better ? ” 

“ That,” said she, “ depends a good deal on the 
woman.” 

As she said this Lawrence glanced quickly at her 
to observe the expression of her countenance. The 
countenance plainly indicated that its owner had 
suddenly been made aware that the afternoon was 
slipping away, and that she had forgotten certain 
household duties that devolved upon her. 


lO 


The Late Mrs Null, 


‘‘Here comes Peggy,” she said, “and I must go 
into the house and give out supper. Don’t you 
now think it would be well for you to follow our 
discussion of a Virginia supper by eating one? ” 

At this moment, there arrived at the bottom of 
the inside steps, a small girl, very black, very sol¬ 
emn, and very erect, with her hands folded in front 
of her very straight up-and-down calico frock, her 
features expressive of a wooden stolidity which noth¬ 
ing but a hammer or chisel could alter, and with 
large eyes fixed upon a far-away, which, apparently, 
had disappeared, leaving the eyes in a condition of 
idle out-go. 

“ Miss Rob,” said this wooden Peggy, “ Aun’ 
Judy says it’s more’n time to come housekeep.” 

“ Which means,” said Miss Roberta, rising, “ that 
1 must go and get my key basket, and descend into 
the store-room. Won’t you come in ? We shall find 
uncle on the back porch.” 

Mr Croft declined with thanks, and took his leave, 
and the lady walked across the smooth grass to the 
house, followed by the rigid Peggy. 

The young man approached his impatient horse, 
and, not without some difficulty, got himself 
mounted. He had not that facility of sympathetic¬ 
ally combining his ov/n will and that of his horse 
which comes to men who from their early boyhood 
are wont to consider horses as objects quite as 
necessary to locomotion as shoes and stockings. 
But Lawrence Croft was a fair graduate of a riding 
school, and he went away in very good style to his 


The Late Mrs NulL 


11 

cottage at the Green Sulphur Springs. “ I believe,” 
he said to himself, as he rode through the woods, 
“that Miss March expects no more of me than she 
would expect of any very intimate friend. I shall 
feel perfectly free, therefore, to continue my investi¬ 
gations regarding two points: First, is she worth 
having ? and: Second, will she have me ? And I 
must be very careful not to get the position of these 
points reversed.” 

When Miss Roberta went into the store-room, it 
was Peggy, who, under the supervision of her mis¬ 
tress, measured out the fine white flour for the bis¬ 
cuits for supper. Peggy was being educated to do 
these things properly, and she knew exactly how 
many times the tin scoop must fill itself in the barrel 
for the ordinary needs of the family. Miss Roberta 
stood, her eyes contemplatively raised to the narrow 
window, through which she could see a flush of sun¬ 
set mingling itself with the outer air ; and Peggy 
scooped once, twice, thrice, four times; then she 
stopped, and, raising her head, there came into the 
far-away gloom of her eyes a quick sparkle like a 
flash of black lightning. She made another and en¬ 
tirely supplementary scoop, and then she stopped, 
and let the tin utensil fall into the barrel with a gen¬ 
tle thud. 

“ That will do,” said Miss Roberta. 

That night, when she should have been in he^ 
bed, Peggy sat alone by the hearth in Aunt Judy’s 
cabin, baking a cake. It was a peculiar cake, for 
she could get no sugar for it, but she had supplied 


12 


The Late Mrs NulL 


this deficiency with molasses. It was made of Miss 
Roberta’s finest white flour, and eggs there were in 
it and butter, and it contained, besides, three raisins, 
an olive, and a prune. When the outside of the 
cake had been sufficiently baked, and every portion 
of it had b'een scrupulously eaten, the good little 
Peggy murmured to herself: “ It’s pow’ful com¬ 
fortin’ for Miss Rob to have sumfin’ on her min’.” 


CHAPTER II. 


About a week after Mr Lawrence Croft had had 
his conversation with Miss March on the stile steps 
at Midbranch, he was obliged to return to his home 
in New York. He was not a man of business, but 
he had business; and, besides this, he considered if 
he continued much longer to reside in the utterly 
attractionless cottage at the Green Sulphur Springs, 
and rode over every day to the very attractive house 
at Midbranch, that the points mentioned in the pre¬ 
vious chapter might get themselves reversed. He 
was a man who was proud of being, under all circum¬ 
stances, frank and honest with himself. He did not 
wish, if it could be avoided, to deceive other people, 
but he was prudent and careful about exhibiting his 
motives and intended course of action to his asso¬ 
ciates. Himself, however, he took into his strictest 
confidence. He was fond of the idea that he went 
into the battle of life covered and protected by a 
great shield, but that the inside of the shield was a 
mirror in which he could always see himself. Look¬ 
ing into this mirror, he now saw that, if he did not 
soon get away from Miss Roberta, he would lay 
down his shield and surrender, and it was his intent 
that this should not happen until he wished it to 
happen. 


14 


The Late Mrs Null, 


It was very natural when Lawrence reached New 
York, that he should take pleasure in talking about 
Miss Roberta March and her family with any one 
who knew them. He was particularly anxious, if he 
could do so delicately and without exciting any sus¬ 
picion of his object, to know as much as possible 
about Sylvester March, the lady’s father. In doing 
this, he did not feel that he was prying into the 
affairs of others, but he could not be true to himself 
unless he looked well in advance before he made the 
step on which his mind was set. It was in this way 
that he happened to learn that about two years 
before, Miss March had been engaged to be married, 
but that the engagement had been broken off for 
reasons not known to his informants, and he could 
find out nothing about the gentleman, except that 
his name was Junius Keswick. 

The fact that the lady had had a lover, put her in 
a new light before Lawrence Croft. He had had an 
idea, suggested by the very friendly nature of their 
intercourse, that she was a woman whose mind did 
not run out to love or marriage, but now that he 
knew that she was susceptible of being wooed and 
won, because these things had actually happened to 
her, he was very glad that he had come away from 
Midbranch. 

The impression soon became very strong upon the 
mind of Lawrence that he would like to know what 
kind of man was this former lover. He had known 
Miss March about a year, and at the time of his 
first acquaintaince with her, she must have come 


The Late Mrs Null, 


15 


very fresh from this engagement. To study the man 
to whom Roberta March had been willing to engage 
herself, was, to Lawrence’s mode of thinking, if not 
a prerequisite procedure in his contemplated course 
of action, at least a very desirable one. 

But he was rather surprised to find that no one 
knew much about Mr Junius Keswick, or could give 
him any account of his present whereabouts, al¬ 
though he had been, at the time when his engage¬ 
ment was in force, a resident of New York. To 
consult a directory was, therefore, an obvious first 
step in the affair; and, with this intent, Mr Croft 
entered, one morning, an apothecary’s shop in a 
street which, though a busy one, was in a rather 
out-of-the-way part of the city. 

“ We haven’t any directory, sir,” said the clerk, 
“ but if you will step across the street you can find 
one at that little shop with the green door. Every¬ 
body goes there to look at the directory.” 

The green door on the opposite side of the street, 
approached by a single flat step of stone, had a tin 
sign upon it, on which was painted: 

“INFORMATION 
OF EVERY VARIETY 
FURNISHED WITHIN.” 

Pushing open the door, Lawrence entered a long, 
narrow room, not very well lighted, with a short 
counter on one side, and some desks, partially 
screened by a curtain, at the farther end. A boy was 


The Late Mrs Null. 


•' i6 

behind the counter, and to him Lawrence addressed 
himself, asking permission to look at a city direc¬ 
tory. 

“ One cent, if you look yourself; three cents, if 
we look,” said the boy, producing a thick volume 
from beneath the counter. 

“ One cent ? ” said Lawrence, smiling at the oddity 
of this charge, as he opened the book and turned 
to the letter K. 

“Yes,” said the boy, “ and if the fine print hurts 
your eyes, we’ll look for three cents.” 

At this moment a man came from one of the desks 
at the other end of the room, and handed the boy 
a letter with which that young person immediately 
departed. The new-comer, a smooth-shaven man of 
about thirty, with the air of the proprietor or head 
manager very strong upon him, took the boy’s po¬ 
sition behind the counter, and remarked to Law¬ 
rence : “ Most people, when they first come here, 
think it rather queer to pay for looking at the di¬ 
rectory, but you see we don’t keep a directory to 
coax people to come in to buy medicines or anything 
else. We sell nothing but information, and part of 
our stock is what you get out of a directory. But 
it’s the best plan all round, for we can afford to give 
you a clean, good book instead of one all jagged and 
worn; and as you pay your money, you feel you can 
look as long as you like, and come when you please.” 

“ It is a very good plan,” said Lawrence, closing 
the book, “ but the name I want is not here.” 

“ Perhaps it is in last year’s directory,” said the 


The Late Mrs Null, 


17 

man, producing another volume from under the coun¬ 
ter. 

“ That wouldn’t do me much good,” said Law¬ 
rence. “ I want to know where some one resides 
this year.” 

“ It will do a great deal of good,” said the other, 
“ for if we know where a person has lived, inquiries 
can be made there as to where he has gone. Some¬ 
times we go back three or four years, and when we 
have once found a man’s name, we follow him up 
from place to place until we can give the inquirer 
his present address. What is the name you wanted, 
sir? You were looking in the K’s.” 

Keswick,” said Lawrence, ^‘Junius Keswick.” 

The man ran his finger and his eyes down a col¬ 
umn, and remarked : “ There is Keswick, but it is 
Peter, laborer; I suppose that isn’t the party.” 

Lawrence smiled, and shook his head. 

, “ We will take the year before that,” said the man 

with cheerful alacrity, heaving up another volume. 

Here’s two Keswicks,” he said in a moment, “one 
John, and the other Stephen W. Neither of them 
right ? ” 

“ No,” said Lawrence, “ my man is Junius, and we 
need not go any farther back. I am afraid the per¬ 
son I am looking for was only a sojourner in the 
city, and that his name did not get into the direc¬ 
tory. I know that he was here year before last.” 

“ All right, sir,” said the the other, pushing aside 
the volume he had been consulting. “We’ll find 
the man for you from the hotel books, and what is 


2 


The Late Mrs Null. 


more, we can see those two Keswicks that I found 
last. Perhaps they were relations of his, and he was 
staying with them. If you put the matter in our 
hands, we’ll give you the address to-morrow night, 
provided it’s an ordinary case. But if he has gone 
to Australia or Japan, of course, it’ll take longer. 
Is it crime or relationship ? ” 

“ Neither,” replied Lawrence. 

“ It is generally one of them,” said the man, “ and 
if it’s crime we carry it on to a certain point, and 
then put it into the hands of the detectives, for 
we’ve nothing to do with police business, private or 
otherwise. But if it’s relationship, we’ll go right 
through with it to the end. Any kind of informa¬ 
tion you may want we’ll give you here; scientific, bio¬ 
graphical, business, healthfulness of localities, genu¬ 
ineness of antiquities, age and standing of individuals, 
purity of liquors or teas from sample, Bible items 
localized, china verified ; in fact, anything you want 
to know we can tell you. Of course we don’t pre¬ 
tend that we know all these things, but we know the 
people who do know, or who can find them out. 
By coming to us, and paying a small sum, the most 
valuable information, which it would take you years 
to find out, can be secured with certainty, and gener¬ 
ally in a few days. We know what to do, and where 
to go, and that’s the point. If it’s a new bug, or a 
microscope insect we put it into the hands of a man 
who knows just what high scientific authority to ap¬ 
ply to; if it’s the middle name of your next door 
neighbor we’ll give it to you from his baptismal 


The Late Mrs Null. 


^9 


record. I’m getting up a pamphlet-circular wtiich 
will be ready in about a week, and which will fully 
explain our methods of business, with the charges 
for the different items, etc.” 

“Well,” said Lawrence, taking out his pocket- 
book, “ I want the address of Junius Keswick, and I 
think I will let you look it up for me. What is your 
charge ? ” 

“ It will be two dollars,” said the man, “ ordinary ; 
and if we find inquiries run into other countries 
we will make special terms. And then there’s seven 
cents, one for your look, and two threes for ours. You 
shall hear from us to-morrow night at your hotel or 
residence, unless you prefer to call here.” 

“ I will call the day after to-morrow,” said Law¬ 
rence, producing a five-dollar note. 

“ Very good,” replied the proprietor. “ Will you 
please pay the cashier?” pointing at the same time 
to a desk behind Lawrence which the latter had not 
noticed. 

Approaching this desk, the top of which, except 
for a small space in front, was surrounded by short 
curtains, he saw a young girl busily engaged in 
reading a book. He proffered her the note, the 
proprietor at the same time calling out: “Two, 
seven.” 

The girl turned the book down to keep the place ; 
then she took the note, and opened a small drawer, 
in which she fumbled for some moments. Closing 
the drawer, she rose to her feet and waved the note 
over the curtain to her right. 


20 


The Late Mrs Null, 


^‘•Haven’t any change, eh ? said the man, corn* 
ing from behind the counter, and putting on his hat. 
“As the boy’s not here. I’ll step out and get it.” 

The girl turned up her book, and began to read 
again, and Lawrence stood and looked at her, won¬ 
dering what need there was of a cashier in a place 
like this. She appeared to be under twenty, rather 
thin-faced, and was plainly dressed. In a few 
moments she raised her eyes from her book, and 
said : “ Won’t you sit down, sir ? I am sorry you 
have to wait, but we are short of change to-day, and 
sometimes it is hard to get it in this neighborhood.” 

Lawrence declined to be seated, but was very 
willing to talk. “ Was it the proprietor of this es¬ 
tablishment,” he asked, “ who went out to get the 
money changed ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” she answered. “That is Mr Candy.” 

“ A queer name,” said Lawrence, smiling. 

The girl looked up at him, and smiled in return. 
There was a very perceptible twinkle in her eyes, 
which seemed to be eyes that would like to be merry 
ones, and a slight movement of the corners of her 
mouth which indicated a desire to say something in 
reply, but, restrained probably by loyalty to her 
employer, or by prudent discretion regarding con¬ 
versation with strangers, she was silent. 

Lawrence, however, continued his remarks. “ The 
whole business seems to me very odd. Suppose I 
were to come here and ask for information as to 
where I could get a five-dollar note changed ; would 
Mr Candy be able to tell me ? ” 



The Late Mrs Null, 


21 


‘‘ He would do in that case just as he does in all 
others/’ she said ; “ first, he would go and find out, 
and then he would let you know. Giving informa¬ 
tion is only half the business; finding things out 
is the other half. That’s what he’s doing now.” 

“ So, when he comes back,” said Lawrence, “ he’ll 
have a new bit of information to add to his stock on 
hand, which must be a very peculiar one, I fancy.” 

The cashier smiled. “ Yes,” she said, “ and a very 
useful one, too, if people only knew it.” 

“ Don’t they know it ? ” asked Lawrence. “ Don’t 
you have plenty of custom? ” 

At this moment the door opened, Mr Candy en¬ 
tered, and the conversation stopped. 

“ Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,” said the propri¬ 
etor, passing some money to the cashier over the 
curtain, who, thereupon, handed two dollars and 
ninety-three cents to Lawrence through the little 
opening in front. 

‘‘ If you call the day after to-morrow, the infor¬ 
mation will be ready for you,” said Mr Candy, as 
the gentleman departed. 

On the appointed day, Lawrence came again, and 
found nobody in the place but the cashier, who 
handed him a note. 

Mr Candy left this for you, in case he should 
not be in when you called,” she said. 

The note stated that the search for the address of 
Junius Keswick had opened very encouragingly, but 
as it was quite evident that said person was not now 
in the city, the investigations would have to be can 


22 


The Late Mrs Nttll. 


ried on on a more extended scale, and a deposit of 
three dollars would be necessary to meet expenses. 

Lawrence looked from the note to the cashier, 
who had been watching him as he read. “ Does Mr 
Candy want me to leave three dollars with you ? ” 
he asked. 

“That’s what he said, sir.” 

“ Well,” said Lawrence, “ I don’t care about pay¬ 
ing for unlimited investigation in this way. If the 
gentleman I am in search of has left the city, and 
Mr Candy has been able to find out to what place 
he went, he should have told me that, and I would 
have decided whether or not I wanted him to do 
anything more.” 

The face of the cashier appeared troubled. “ I 
think, sir,” she said, “ that if you. leave the money, 
Mr Candy will do all he can to discover what you 
wish to know, and that it will not be very long be¬ 
fore you have the address of the person you are 
seeking.” 

“ Do you really think he has any clew ? ” asked 
Lawrence. 

This question did not seem to please the cashier, 
and she answered gravely, though without any show 
of resentment: “ That is a strange question after I 
advised you to leave the money.” 

Lawrence had a kind heart, and it reproached him. 
“ I beg your pardon,” said he. “ I will leave the 
money with you, but I desire that Mr Candy will, 
in his next communication, give me all the informa¬ 
tion he has acquired up to the moment of writing, 


The Late Null. 


and then I will decide whether it is worth while to 
go on with the matter, or not.” 

He, thereupon, took out his pocket-book and 
handed three dollars to the cashier, who, with an air 
of deliberate thoughtfulness, smoothed out the two 
notes, and placed them in her drawer. Then she 
said : “ If you will leave your address, sir, I will see 
that you receive your information as soon as pos¬ 
sible. That will be better than for you to call, 
because I can’t tell you when to come.” 

“Very well,” said Lawrence, “and I will be 
obliged to you if you will hurry up Mr Candy as 
much as you can.” And, handing her his card, he 
went his way. 

The way of Lawrence Croft was generally a very 
pleasant one, for .the fortunate conditions of his life 
made it possible for him to go around most of the 
rough places which might lie in it. His family was 
an old one, and a good one, but there was very little 
of it left, and of its scattered remnants he was the 
most important member. But although circum¬ 
stances did not force him to do anything in partic¬ 
ular, he liked to believe that he was a rigid master 
to himself, and whatever he did was always done 
with a purpose. When he travelled he had an ob¬ 
ject in view; when he stayed at home the case was 
the same. 

His present purpose was the most serious one of 
his life: he wished to marry ; and, if she should 
prove to be the proper person, he wished to marry 
Roberta March; and as a preliminary step in the 


T 


24 


The Late Mrs Null. 


carrying out of his purpose, he wanted very much to 
know what sort of man Miss March had once been 
willing to marry. 

When five days had elapsed without his hearing 
from Mr Candy, he became impatient and betook 
himself to the green door with the tin sign. Enter¬ 
ing, he found only the boy and the cashier. Ad¬ 
dressing himself to the latter, he asked if anything 
had been done in his business. 

“Yes, sir,” she said, “and I hoped Mr Candy 
would write you a letter this morning before he 
went out, but he didn’t. He traced the gentleman 
to Niagara Falls, and I think you’ll hear something 
very soon.” 

“ If inquiries have to be carried on outside of the 
city,” said Lawrence, “ they will probably cost a 
good deal, and come to nothing. I think I will 
drop the matter as far as Mr Candy is concerned.” 

“ I wish you would give us a little more time,” 
said the girl. “ I am sure you will hear something 
in a few days, and you need not be afraid there will 
be anything more to pay unless you are satisfied 
that you have received the full worth of the money.” 

Lawrence reflected for a few moments, and then 
concluded to let the matter go on. “ Tell Mr Candy 
to keep me frequently informed of the progress of 
the affair,” said he, “ and if he is really of any service 
to me I am willing to pay him, but not otherwise.” 

“ That will be all right,” said the cashier, “ and if 
Mr Candy is—is prevented from doing it, I’ll write 
to you myself, and keep you posted.” 


The Late Mrs NulL 


25 


As soon as the customer had gone, the boy, who 
had been sitting on the counter, thus spoke to the 
cashier: “You know very well that old Mintstick 
has given that thing up ! ” 

“ I know he has,” said the girl, “ but I have not.” 

“You haven’t anything to do with it,” said the 
boy. 

“Yes, I have,” she answered. “I advised that 
gentleman to pay his money, and I’m not going to 
see him cheated out of it. Of course, Mr Candy 
doesn’t mean to cheat him, but he has gone into that 
business about the origin of the tame blackberry, 
and there’s no knowing when he’ll get back to this 
thing, which is not in his line, anyway.” 

“ I should say it wasn’t ! ” exclaimed the boy with 
a loud laugh. “ Sendin’ me to look up them two 
Keswicks, who was both put down as cordwainers 
in year before last’s directory, and askin’ ’em if 
there was any Juniuses in their families.” 

“ Junius Keswick, did you say ? Is that the name 
of the gentleman Mr Candy was looking for?” 

“ Yes,” said the boy. 

Presently the cashier remarked: “ I am going to 
look at the books.” And she betook herself to 
the desk at the back part of the shop. 

In about half an hour she returned and handed to 
the boy a memorandum upon a scrap of paper. “You 
go out now to your lunch,” she said, “ and while you 
are out, stop at the St. Winifred Hotel, where Mr 
Candy found the name of Junius Keswick, and see 
if it is not down again not long after the date which 


26 


The Late Mrs Null, 


I have put on this slip of paper. I think if a person 
went to Niagara Falls he’d be just as likely to make 
a little trip of it and come back again as to keep 
travelling on, which Mr Candy supposes he did. If 
you find the name again, put down the date of arri¬ 
val on this, and see if there was any memorandum 
about forwarding letters.” 

“All right,” said the boy. “But I’ll be gone 
an hour and a half. Can’t cut into my lunch time.” 

In the course of a few days Lawrence Croft re¬ 
ceived a note signed Candy & Co. “ per” some illeg¬ 
ible initials, which stated that Mr Junius Keswick 
had been traced to a boarding-house in the city, but 
as the establishment had been broken up for some 
time, endeavors were now being made to find the 
lady who had kept the house, and when this was 
done it would most likely be possible to discover 
from her where Mr Keswick had gone. 

Lawrence waited a few days and then called at the 
Information Shop. Again was Mr Candy absent; 
and so was the boy. The cashier informed him that 
she had found—that is, that the lady who kept the 
boarding-house had been found—and she thought 
she remembered the gentlemen in question, and 
promised, as soon as she could, to look through a 
book, in which she used to keep directions for the 
forwarding of letters, and in this way another clew 
might soon be expected. 

“This seems to be going on better,” said Law¬ 
rence, “ but Mr Candy doesn’t show much in the 
affair. Who is managing it ? You ? ” 


The Late Mrs Null. 


27 

The girl blushed and then laughed, a little confus¬ 
edly. “ I am only the cashier,” she said. 

“And the laborious duties of your position would, 
of course, give you no time for anything else,” re¬ 
marked Lawrence. 

“ Oh, well,” said the girl, “ of course it is easy 
enough for any one to see that I haven’t much to do 
as cashier, but the boy and Mr Candy are nearly 
always out, looking up things, and I have to do other 
business besides attending to cash.” 

“If you are attending to my business,” said Law¬ 
rence, “ I am very glad, especially now that it has 
reached the boarding-house stage, where I think 
a woman will be better able to work than a man. 
Are you doing this entirely independent of Mr 
Candy ? ” 

“ Well, sir,” said the cashier, with an honest, 
straight-forward look from her gray eyes that pleased 
Lawrence, “ I may as well confess that I am. But 
there’s nothing mean about it. He has all the same 
as given it up, for he’s waiting to hear from a man 
at Niagara, who will never write to him, and prob¬ 
ably hasn’t any thing to write, and as I advised you 
to pay the money I feel bound in honor to see that 
the business is done, if it can be done.” 

“ Have you a brother or a husband to help you in 
these investigations and searches ? ” asked Lawrence. 

“ No,” said the cashier with a smile. “ Sometimes 
I send our boy, and as to boarding houses, I can go 
to them myself after we shut up here.” 

“ I wish,” said Lawrence, “ that you were married. 


28 


The Late Mrs Null, 


and that you had a husband who would not interfere 
in this matter at all, but who would go about with 
you, and so enable you to follow up your clew 
thoroughly. You take up the business in the right 
spirit, and I believe you would succeed in finding 
Mr Keswick, but I don’t like the idea of sending 
you about by yourself.” 

“ I won’t deny,” said the cashier, that since I 
have begun this affair I would like very much to 
carry it out ; so, if you don’t object, I won’t give it 
up just yet, and as soon as anything happens I’ll let 
you know.” 


CHAPTER III. 


Autumn in Virginia, especially if one is not too 
near the mountains, is a season in which greenness 
sails very close to Christmas, although generally 
veering away in time to prevent its verdant hues 
from tingeing that happy day with the gloomy in¬ 
fluence of the prophetic proverb . about church¬ 
yards. Long after the time when the people of the 
regions watered by the Hudson and the Merrimac 
are beginning to button up their overcoats, and to 
think of weather strips for their window-sashes, the 
dwellers in the land through which flow the Appo¬ 
mattox and the James may sit upon their broad 
piazzas, and watch the growing glories of the forests, 
where the crimson stars of the sweet gum blaze 
among the rich yellows of the chestnuts, the linger- 
ing green of the oaks, and the enduring verdure of 
the pines. The insects still hum in the sunhy air, 
and the sun is now a genial orb whose warm rays 
cheer but not excoriate. 

The orb just mentioned was approaching the hori¬ 
zon, when, in an adjoining county to that in which 
was situated the hospitable mansion of Midbranch, a 
little negro boy about ten years old was driving 
some cows through a gateway that opened on a 
public road. The cows, as they were going home- 


30 


The Late Mrs Null, 


ward, filed willingly through the gateway, which led 
ii¥to a field, at the far end of which might be dimly 
discerned a house behind a mass of foliage; but the 
boy, whose head and voice were entirely too big for 
the rest of him, assailed them with all manner of re¬ 
proaches and impellent adjectives, addressing each 
cow in turn as: “ You, sah ! ” When the compliant 
beasts had hustled through, the youngster got upon 
the gate, and giving it a push with one bare foot, he 
swung upon it as far as it would go ; then lifting 
the end from the surface of the ground he shut it 
with a bang, fastened it with a hook, and ran after 
the cows, his wild provocatives to bovine haste ring¬ 
ing high into the evening air. 

This youth was known as Plez, his whole name 
being Pleasant Valley, an inspiration to his mother 
from the label on a grape box, which had drifted into 
that region from the North. He had just stooped to 
pick up a clod of earth with which to accentuate his 
vociferations, when, on rising, he was astounded by 
the apparition of an elderly woman wearing a purple 
6un-bonnet, and carrying a furled umbrella of the 
same color. Behind the spectacles, which were fixed 
upon him, blazed a pair of fiery eyes, and the soul 
of Plez shrivelled and curled up within him. His 
downcast eyes were bent upon his upturned toes, 
the clod dropped from his limp fingers, and his 
mouth which had been opened for a yell, remained 
open, but the yell had apparently swooned. 

The words of the old lady were brief, but her um¬ 
brella was full of jerky menace, and when she left 


The Late Mrs Null, 


31 


him, and passed on toward the outer gate, Plez fol¬ 
lowed the cows to the house with the meekness of a 
suspected sheep dog. 

The cows had been milked, some by a rotund 
black woman named Letty, and some, much to their 
discomfort, by Plez himself, and it was beginning to 
grow dark, when an open spring wagon driven by a 
colored man, and with a white man on the back seat 
came along the road, and stopped at the gate. The 
driver having passed the reins to the occupant on the 
back seat, got down, opened the gate, and stood hold¬ 
ing it while the other drove the horse into the road 
which ran by the side of the field to the house be¬ 
hind the trees. At this time a passer-by, if there 
had been one, might have observed, partly protrud¬ 
ing from behind some bushes on the other side of 
the public road, and at a little distance from the 
gate, the lower portion of a purple umbrella. As the 
spring wagon approached, and during the time that 
it was.turning into the gate, and while it was wait¬ 
ing for the driver to resume his seat, this umbrella 
was considerably agitated, so much so indeed as to 
cause a little rustling among the leaves. When the 
gate had been shut, and the wagon had passed on 
toward the house, the end of the umbrella disap¬ 
peared, and then, on the other side of the bush, there 
came into view a sun-bonnet of the same color as the 
umbrella. This surmounted the form of an old lady, 
who stepped into the pathway by the side of the 
road, and walked away with a quick, active step 
which betokened both energy and purpose. 


32 


The Late Mrs Null, 


The house, before which, not many minutes later, 
this spring wagon stopped, was not a fine old fam¬ 
ily mansion like that of Midbranch, but it was a 
comfortable dwelling, though an unpretending one. 
The gentleman on the back seat, and the driver, 
who was an elderly negro, both turned toward the 
hall door, which was open and lighted by a lamp 
within, as if they expected some one to come out on 
the porch. But nobody came, and, after a moment’s 
hesitation, the gentleman got down, and taking a 
valise from the back of the wagon, mounted the 
steps of the porch. While he was doing this the 
face of the negro man, which could be plainly seen 
in the light from the hall door, grew anxious and 
troubled. When the gentleman set his valise on 
the porch, and stood by it without making any 
attempt to enter, the old man put down the reins 
and quickly descending from his seat, hurried up 
the steps. 

“ Dunno whar ole miss is, but I reckon she done 
gone to look after de tukkies. She dreffle keerful 
dat dey all go to roos’ ebery night. Walk right in, 
Mahs’ Junius.” And, taking up the valise, he fol¬ 
lowed the gentleman into the hall. 

There, near the back door, stood the rotund black 
woman, and, behind her, Plez. “ Look h’yar Letty,” 
said the negro man, whar ole miss ? ” 

“ Dunno,” said the woman. “ She done gib out 
supper, an’ I ain’t seed her sence. Is dis Mahs’ 
Junius ? Reckon’ you don’ ’member Letty ? ” 

“Yes I do,” said the gentleman, shaking hands 


The Late Mrs NulL 


33 


% with her; “ but the Letty I remember was a rather 
slim young woman.” 

“ Dat’s so,” said Letty, with a respectful laugh, 
‘‘ but, shuh ’nuf, my food’s been blessed to me, 
Mahs’ Junius.” 

“ But whar’s ole miss ? ” persisted the old man. 

You, Letty, can’t you go look her up ? ” 

Now was heard the voice of Plez, who meekly 
emerged from the shade of Letty. “ Ole miss done 
gone out to de road gate,” said he. “ I seen her 
when I brung de cows.” 

“ Bress my soul! ” ejaculated Letty. “ Out to de 
road gate ! An’ ’spectin’ you too, Mahs’ Junius ! ” 

“ Didn’t she say nuffin to you ? ” said the old man, 
addressing Plez. 

“ She didn’t say nuffin to me, Uncle Isham,” an¬ 
swered the boy, “ ’cept if I didn’t quit skeerin’ dem 
cows, an’ makin’ ’em run wid froin’ rocks till dey 
ain’t got a drip drap o’ milk lef’ in ’em, she’d whang 
me ober de head wid her umbril.” 

“ ’Tain’t easy to tell whar she done gone from 
dat,” said Letty. 

The face of Uncle Isham grew more troubled. 
“Walk in de parlor, Mahs’ Junius,” he said, “an’ 
make yourse’f comf’ble. Ole miss boun’ to be back 
d’reckly. I’ll go put up de boss.” 

As the old man went heavily down the porch 
steps he muttered to himself: “I was feared o’ 
sumfin like dis; I done feel it in my bones.” 

The gentleman took a seat in the parlor where 
Letty had preceded him with a lamp. “ Reckon 


3 


34 


The Late Mrs Null. 


ole miss didn’t spec’ you quite so soon, Mahs’ Jun¬ 
ius, cos de sorrel hoss is pow’ful slow, and Uncle 
Isham is mighty keerful ob rocks in de road. 
Reckon she’s done gone ober to see ole Aun’ Patsy, 
who’s gwine to die in two or free days, to take her 
some red an’ yaller pieces for a crazy quilt. I know 
she’s got some pieces fur her.” 

i^Aunt Patsy alive yet ?” exclaimed Master Jun- 
“ But if she’s about to die, what does she want 
with a crazy quilt ? ” 

“ Dat’s fur she shroud, said Letty. “ She ’tends 
to go to glory all wrap up in a crazy quilt, jus chock- 
full ob all de colors of the rainbow. Aun’ Patsy 
neber did ’tend to have a shroud o’ bleached da 
mestic like common folks. She wants to cut a 
shine ’mong de angels, an’ her quilt’s most done, 
jus’ one corner ob it lef’. Reckon ole miss done 
gone to carry her de pieces fur dat corner. Dere 
ain’t much time lef’, fur Aun’ Patsy is pretty nigh 
dead now. She’s ober two hunnerd years ole.” 

“What!” exclaimed Master Junius, “two hun¬ 
dred ? ” 

“Yes, sail,” answered Letty. “Doctor Peter’s 
old Jim was more’n a hunnerd when he.died, an’ we 
all knows Aun’ Patsy is twice as ole as ole Jim.” 

“I’ll wait here,” said Master Junius, taking up a 
book. “ I suppose she will be back before long.” 

In about half an hour Uncle Isham came into the 
kitchen, his appearance indicating that he had had 
a hurried walk, and told Letty that she had better 
give Master Junius his supper without waiting any 


The Late Mrs Null. 


35 


longer for her mistress. “ She ain’t at Aun’ Patsy’s/’ 
said the old man, “ and she’s jus’ done gone some- 
whar else, and she’ll come back when she’s a mind 
to, an’ dar ain’t nuffin else to say ’bqjut it. 

Supper was eaten; a pipe was smoked on the 
porch; and Master Junius went to bed in a room 
which had been carefully prepared for him under 
the supervision of the mistress ; but the purple sun- 
bonnet, and the umbrella of the same color did not-**^ 
return to the house that night. 

Master Junius was a quiet man, and fond of walk¬ 
ing ; and the next day he devoted to long rambles, 
sometimes on the roads, sometimes over the fields, 
and sometimes through the woods ; but in none of 
his walks, nor when he came back to dinner and sup¬ 
per, did he meet the elderly mistress of the house to 
which he had come. That evening, as he sat on the 
top step of the porch with his pipe, he summoned 
to him Uncle Isham, and thus addressed the old 
man: 

“ I think it is impossible, Isham, that your mis¬ 
tress started out to meet me, and that an accident 
happened to her. I have walked all over this neigh¬ 
borhood, and I know that no accident could have 
occurred without my seeing or hearing something 
of it.” 

Uncle Isham stood on the ground, his feet close 
to the bottom step; his hat was in his hand, and 
his upturned face wore an expression of earnestness 
which seemed to set uncomfortably upon it. 

“ Mahs’ Junius,” said he, “ dar ain’t no acciden’ come 


36 


The Late M^'s Null. 


to ole miss; she’s done gone cos she wanted to, an’ 
she ain’t come back cos she didn’t want to. Dat’s 
ole miss, right fru.” 

“ I suppose,” said the young man, “ that as she 
went away on foot she must be staying with some 
of the neighbors. If we were to make inquiries, it 
certainly would not be difficult to find out where 
she is.” 

“Mahs’ Junius,” said Uncle Isham, his black eyes 
shining brighter and brighter as he spoke, “ dar’s 
culled people, an’ white folks too in dis yer county 
who’d put on dere bes’ clothes an’ black dere shoes, 
an’ skip off wid alacrousness, to do de wus kin’ o’ 
sin, dat dey knowed for sartin would send ’em 
down to de deepes’ and hottes’ gullies ob de lower 
regions, but nuffin in dis work could make one o’ 
* dem people go ’quirin’ ’bout ole miss when' she 
didn’t want to be ’quired about.” 

The smoker put down his pipe on the top step 
beside him, and sat for a few moments in thought. 
Then he spoke. “ Isham,” he began, “ I want you 
to tell me if you have any notion or idea-” 

“ Mahs’ Junius,” exclaimed the old negro, “sense 
me fur int’ruptin’, but I can’t help it. Don’ you go, 
an ax an ole man like me if I tinks dat ole miss 
went away cos you was cornin’ an’ if it’s my true 
b’lief dat she’ll neber come back while you is h’yar. 
Don’ ask me nuffin like dat, Mahs’ Junius. Ise 
libed in dis place all my bawn days, an’ I ain’t neber 
done nuffin to you, Mahs’ Junius, ’cept keepin’ you 
from breakin’ you neck when you was too little to 



The Late ' Mrs Null, 


37 


know better. I neber ’jected to you marryin’ any 
lady you like bes’, an’ ’tain’t far Mahs’ Junius, now 
Ise ole an’ gittin’ on de careen, fur you to ax me 
wot I tinks about ole miss gwine away an’ cornin’ 
back. I begs you, Mahs’ Junius, don’ ax me dat.” 

Master Junius rose to his feet. “ All right, Isham,” 
he said ; ‘‘ I shall not worry your good old heart with 
questions.” And he went into the house. 

The next day this quiet gentleman and good walker 
went to see old Aunt Patsy, who had apparently 
consented to live a day or two longer; gave her a little 
money in lieu of pieces for her crazy bed-quilt; and 
told her he was going away to stay. He told Uncle 
Isham he was going away to stay away ; and he said 
the same thing to Letty, and to Plez, and to two 
colored women of the neighborhood whom he hap¬ 
pened to see. Tlieh'he took his valise, which was 
not a very large one, and departed. He refused to 
be conveyed to the distant station in the spring 
wagon, saying that he much preferred to walk. 
Uncle Isham took leave of him with much sadness, 
but did not ask him to stay; and Letty and Plez 
looked after him wistfully, still holding in their 
hands the coins he had placed there. With the ex¬ 
ception of these coins, the only thing he left behind 
him was a sealed letter on the parlor table, directed 
to the mistress of the house. 

Toward the end of that afternoon, two women 
came along the public road which passed the outer 
gate. One came from the south, and rode in an 
open carriage, evidently hired at the railroad station; 


38 


The Late Mrs Null. 


the other was on foot, and came from the north; 
she wore a purple sun-bonnet, and carried an um¬ 
brella of the same color. When this latter individual 
caught sight of the approaching carriage, then at 
some distance, she stopped short and gazed at it. 
She did not retire behind a bush, as she had done on 
a former occasion, but she stood in the shade of a 
tree on the side of the road, and waited. As the 
carriage came nearer to the gate the surprise upon 
her face became rapidly mingled with indignation. 
The driver had checked the speed of his horses, and, 
without doubt, intended to stop at the gate. This 
might not have been sufficient to excite her emo¬ 
tions, but she now saw clearly, having not been quite 
certain of it before, that the occupant of the carriage 
was a lady, and, apparently, a young one, for she 
wore in her hat some bright-colored flowers. The 
driver stopped, got down, opened the gate, and then, 
mounting to his seat, drove through, leaving the 
gate standing wide open. 

This contempt of ordinary proprietary require¬ 
ments made the old lady spring out from the shelter 
of the shade. Brandishing her umbrella, she was 
about to cry out to the man to stop and shut the 
gate, but she restrained herself. The distance was 
too great, and, besides, she thought better of it. 
She went again into the shade, and waited. In 
about ten minutes the carriage came back, but with¬ 
out the lady. This time the driver got down, shut 
the gate after him, and drove rapidly away. 

If blazing eyes could crack glass, the spectacles of 


The Late Mrs Null 


39 


the old lady would have been splintered into many 
pieces as she stood by the road-side, the end of her 
umbrella jabbed an inch or two into the ground. 
After standing thus for some five minutes, she sud¬ 
denly turned and walked vigorously away in the 
direction from which she had come. 

Uncle Isham, Letty, and the boy Plez, were very 
much surprised at the arrival of the lady in the 
carriage. She had asked for the mistress of the 
house, and on being assured that she was expected 
to return very soon, had alighted, paid and dismissed 
her driver, and had taken a seat in the parlor. Her 
valise, rather larger than that of the previous visitor, 
was brought in and put in the hall. She waited for 
an hour or two, during which time Letty made 
several attempts to account for the non-appearance 
of her mistress, who, she said, was away on a visit, 
but was expected back every minute; and when 
supper was ready she partook of that meal alone, 
and after a short evening spent in reading she went 
to bed in the chamber which Letty prepared for 
her. 

Before she retired, Letty, who had shown herself 
a very capable attendant, said to her: Wot’s your 
name, miss ? I alius likes to know the names o’ 
ladies I waits on. 

‘‘My name,” said the lady, “ is Mrs Null.” 


^ilrarg, 



•cf 


CHAPTER IV. 


The Autumn sun was shining very pleasantly 
when, about nine o’clock in the morning, Mrs Null 
came out on the porch, and, standing at the top of 
the steps, looked about her. She had on her hat 
with the red flowers, and she wore a short jacket, 
into the pockets of which her hands were thrust 
with an air which indicated satisfaction with the 
circumstances surrounding her. The old dog, lying 
on the grass at the bottom of the steps, looked up at 
her and flopped his tail upon the ground. Mrs Null 
called to him in a cheerful tone and the dog arose, 
and, hesitatingly, put his forefeet on the bottom 
step ; then, when she held out her hand and spoke 
to him again, he determined that, come what might, 
he would go up those forbidden steps, and let her 
pat his head. This he did, and after looking about 
him to assure himself that this was reality and 
not a dog dream, he lay down upon the door-mat, 
and, with a sigh of relief, composed himself to sleep. 
A black turkey gobbler, who looked as if he had 
been charred in a fire, followed by five turkey hens, 
also suggesting the idea that water had been thrown 
over them before anything but their surfaces had 
been burned, came timidly around the house and 
stopped before venturing upon the greensward in 


The Late Mrs NulL 


41 


front of the porch; then, seeing nobody but Mrs 
Null, they advanced with bobbing heads and sway¬ 
ing bodies to look into the resources of this seldom 
explored region. Plez, who was coming from the 
spring with a pail of water on his head, saw the dog 
on the porch and the turkeys on the grass, and 
stopped to regard the spectacle. He looked at them, 
and he looked at Mrs Null, and a grin of amused 
interest spread itself over his face. 

Mrs Null went down the steps and approached 
the boy. Plez,” said she, ‘‘ if your mistress, or any¬ 
body, should come here this morning, you must run 
over to Pine Top Hill and call me. Tm going there 
to read.” 

“ Don’ you want me to go wid yer, and show you 
de way. Miss Null?” asked Plez, preparing to set 
down his pail. 

“ Oh, no,” said she, “ I know the way.’^ And with 
her hands still in her pockets, from one of which 
protruded a rolled-up novel, she walked down to the 
little stream which ran from the spring, crossed the 
plank and took the path which led by the side of 
the vineyard to Pine Top Hill. 

This lady visitor had now been here two days 
waiting for the return of the mistress of the little 
estate; and the sojourn had evidently been of benefit 
to her. Good air, the good meals with which Letty 
had provided her, and a sort of sympathy which had 
sprung up in a very sudden way between her and 
everything on the place, had given brightness to her 
eyes. She even looked a little plumper than when 


42 


The Late Mrs Null, 


she came, and certainly very pretty. She climbed 
Pine Top Hill without making any mistake as to the 
best path, and went directly to a low piece of sun- 
warmed rock which cropped out from the ground 
not far from the bases of the cluster of pines which 
gave the name to the hill. An extended and very 
pretty view could be had from this spot, and Mrs 
Null seemed to enjoy it, looking about her with 
quick turns of the head as if she wanted to satisfy 
herself that all of the scenery was there. Appar¬ 
ently satisfied that it was, she stretched out her feet, 
withdrew her gaze from the surrounding country, 
and regarded the toes of her boots. Now she 
smiled a little and began to speak. 

“Freddy,’’ said she, “I must think over matters, 
and have a talk with you about them. Nothing 
could be more proper than this, since we are on our 
wedding tour. You keep beautifully m the back¬ 
ground, which is very nice of you, for that’s what I 
married you for. But we must have a talk now, for 
we haven’t said a word to each other, nor, perhaps, 
thought of each other during the whole three nights 
and two days that we have been here. I expect 
these people think it very queer that I should keep 
on waiting for their mistress to come back, but I 
can’t help it; I must stay till she comes, or he comes, 
and they must continue to think it funny. And as 
for Mr Croft, I suppose I should get a letter from 
him if he knew where to write, but you know, Fred-* 
dy, we are travelling about on this wedding tour 
without letting anybody, especially Mr Croft, know 


The Late Mrs NulL 


43 


exactly where we are. He must think it an awfully 
wonderful piece of good luck that a young married 
couple should happen to be journeying in the very 
direction taken by a gentleman whom he wants to 
find, and that they are willing to look for the gentle¬ 
man without charging anything but the extra ex¬ 
penses to which they may be put. We wouldn’t 
charge him a cent, you know, Freddy Null, but for 
the fear’that he would think we would not truly act 
as his agents if we were not paid, and so would 
employ somebody else. We don’t want him to 
employ anybody.else. We want to find Junius Kes¬ 
wick before he does, and then, maybe, we won’t 
want Mr Croft to find him at all. But I hope it 
will not turn out that way. He said, it was neither 
crime nor relationship and, of course, it couldn’t be. 
What I hope is, that it is good fortune; but that’s 
doubtful. At any rate, I must see Junius first, if I 
can possibly manage it. If she would only come 
back and open her letter, there might be.no more 
trouble about it, for I don’t believe he would go 
away without leaving her his address. Isn’t all this 
charming, Freddy? And don’t you feel glad that 
we came here for our wedding tour? Of course you 
don’t enjoy it as much as I do, for it can’t seem so 
natural to you ; but you are bound to like it. The 
very fact of my being here should make the place 
delightful in your eyes, Mr Null, even if I have for¬ 
gotten all about you ever since I came.” 

That afternoon, as Mrs Null was occupying some 
of her continuous leisure in feeding the turkeys at 


44 


The Late Mrs Null, 


the back of the house, she noticed two colored men 
in earnest conversation with Isham. When they had 
gone she called to the old man. ‘‘Uncle Isham,” 
she said, “ what did those men want? ” 

“Tell you what ’tis. Miss Null,” said Isham, re¬ 
moving his shapeless felt hat, “dis yere place is 
gittin’ wus an’ wus on de careen, an’ wat’s gwine to 
happen if ole miss don’ come back is more’n I kin 
tell. Dar’s no groun’ ploughed yit for w'heat, an’ 
dem two ban’s been ’gaged to come do it, an’ dey 
put it off, an’ put it off till ole miss got as mad as 
hot coals, an’ now at las’ dey’ve cgme, an’ she’s not 
h’yar, an’ nuffin’ can be done. De wheat’ll be free 
inches high on ebery oder farm ’fore ole miss git 
dem plough ban’s agin.” 

“That is too bad, Uncle Isham,” said Mrs Null. 
“ When land that ought to be ploughed isn’t 
ploughed, it all grows up in old field pines, don’t 
it?” 

“ It don’ do dat straight off, Miss Null,” said the 
old negro, his gray face relaxing into a smile. 

“ No, I suppose not,” said she. “ I have heard that 
it takes thirty years for a whole forest of old field 
pines to grow up. But they will do it if the land 
isn’t ploughed. Now, Uncle Isham, I don’t intend 
to let everything be at a standstill here just because 
your mistress is away. That is one reason why I 
feed the turkeys. If they died, or the farm all 
went wrong, I should feel that it was partly my 
fault.” 

“ Yaas’m,” said Uncle Isham, passing his hat from 


The Late Mrs Null. 


45 


one hand to the other, as he delivered himself a little 
hesitatingly—“ yaas’m, if you wasn’t h’yar p’raps 
ole miss mought come back.” 

“ Now, Uncle Isham,” said Mrs Null, “ you mustn’t 
think your mistress is staying away on account 
of me. She left home, as Letty has told me over 
and over, because your Master Junius came. Of 
course she thinks he’s here yet, and she don’t know 
anything about me. But if her affairs should go to 
rack and ruin while I am here and able to prevent 
it, I should think it was my fault. That’s what I 
mean, Uncle Isham. And now this is what I want 
you to do. I want you to go right after those 
men, and tell them to come here as soon as they 
can, and begin to plough. Do you know where the 
ploughing is to be done ? ” 

“ Oh, yaas’m,” said Uncle Isham, “ dar ain’t on’y 
one place fur dat. It’s de clober fiel’, ober dar, on 
de udder side ob de gyarden.” 

“ And what is to be planted in it ? ” asked Mrs 
Null. 

'' Ob course dey’s gwine to plough for wheat,” an¬ 
swered Uncle Isham, a little surprised at the ques¬ 
tion. 

“ I don’t altogether like that,” said Mrs Null, her 
brows slightly contracting. I’ve read a great deal 
about the foolishness of Southern people planting 
wheat. They can’t compete with the great wheat 
farms of the West, which sometimes cover a whole 
county, and, of course, having so much, they can 
afford to sell it a great deal cheaper than you can 


46 


The Late Mrs Null. 


here. And yet you go on, year after year, paying 
every, cent you can rake and scrape for fertilizing 
drugs, and getting about a teacupful of wheat,—that 
is, proportionately speaking. I don’t think this sort 
of thing should continue. Uncle Isham. It would be 
a great deal better to plough that field for pickles. 
Now there is a steady market for pickles, and, so 
far as I know, there are no pickle farms in the 
West.” 

“Pickles!” ejaculated the astonished Isham. 
“ Do you mean. Miss Null, to put dat fiel’ down in 
kukumbers at dis time o’ yeah ? ” 

“ Wjell,” said Mrs Null, thoughtfully, “I don’t 
know that I feel authorized to make the change at 
present, but I do know that the things that pay 
most are small fruits, and if you people down here 
would pay more attention to them you would make 
more money. But the land must be ploughed, and 
then we’ll see about planting it afterward; your 
mistress will, probably, be home in time for that. 
You go after the men, and tell them I shall expect 
them to begin the first thing in the morning. And 
if there is anything else to be done on the farm, you 
come and tell me about it to-morrow. I’m going to 
take the responsibility on myself to see that matters 
go on properly until your mistress returns.” 

Letty and her son, Plez, occupied a cabin not far 
from the house, while Uncle Isham lived alone in a 
much smaller tenement, near the barn and chicken 
house. That evening he went over to Letty’s, tak¬ 
ing with him, as a burnt offering, a partially con- 


The Late Mrs NulL 


47 


sumed and still glowing log of hickory wood from 
his own hearth-stone. “ Jes’ lemme tell you dis 
h’yar, Letty/’ said he, after making up the fire and 
seating himself on a stool near by, “ ef you want to 
see ole miss come back rarin’ an’ chargin’, jes’ you 
let her know dat Miss Null is gwine*ter plough de 
clober fiel’ for pickles.” 

“ Wot’s dat fool talk? ” asked Letty. 

“ Miss Null’s gwinfe to boss dis farm, dat’s all,” 
said Isham. “ She tole me so herse’f, an’ ef she’s 
lef’ alone she’s gwine ter do it city fashion. But 
one thing’s sartin shuh, Letty, if ole miss do fin’ out 
wot’s gwine on, she’ll be back h’yar in no time! 
She know well ’nuf dat dat Miss Null ain’t got no 
right to come an’ boss dis h’yar farm. Who’s she, 
anyway? ” 

“ Dunno,” answered Letty. “ I done ax her 
six or seben time, but ’pears like I dunno wot she 
mean when she tell me. P’raps she’s one o’ ole 
miss’ little gal babies growed up. I tell you. Uncle 
Isham, she know dis place jes as ef she bawn h’yar.” 

Uncle Isham looked steadily into the fire and 
rubbed the sides of his head with his big black 
fingers. ‘‘ Ole miss nebber had no gal baby ’cept 
one, an’ dat died when ’twas mighty little.” 

“ Does you reckon she kill her ef she come back 
an’ fin’ her no kin ? ” asked Letty. 

Uncle Isham pushed his stool back and started to 
his feet with a noise which woke Plez, who had 
been soundly sleeping on the other side of the fire¬ 
place ; and striding to the door, the old man went 


48 


The Late Mrs Null. 


out into the open air. Returning in less than a 
minute, he put his head into the doorway and ad¬ 
dressed the astonished woman who had turned 
around to look after him. “ Look h’yar, you Letty, 
I don’ want to hear no sech fool talk ’bout ole miss. 
You dunno oR miss, nohow. You only come h’yar 
seben year ago when dat Plez was trottin’ roun’ wid 
nuffin but a little meal bag for clothes. Mahs’ John 
had been dead a long time den ; you nebber knowed 
Mahs’ John. You nebber was woke up at two 
o’clock in the mawnin wid de crack ob a pistol, an’ 
run out ’spectin’ ’twas somebody stealin chickens ah’ 
Mahs’ John firin’ at ’em, an’ see ole miss a cuttiri’ 
for de road gate wid her white night-gown a floppin’ 
in de win’ behind her, an’ when we got out to de 
gate dar we see Mahs’ John a stannin’ up agin de 
pos’, not de pos’ wid de hinges on, but de pos’ wid 
de hook on, an’ a hole in de top ob de head which 
he made hese’f wid de pistol. One-eyed Jim see de 
whole thing. He war stealin’ cohn in de fiel’ on de 
udder side de road. He see Mahs’ John come out 
wid de pistol, an’ he lay low. Not dat it war Mahs’ 
John’s cohn dat he was stealin’, but he knowed well 
’nuf dat Malls’ John take jes’ as much car’ o’ he 
neighbus cohn as he own. An’ den he see Mahs’ 
John Stan’ up agin de pos’ an’ shoot de pistol, an’ 
he see Mahs’ John’s soul come right out de hole in 
de top ob his head an’ go straight up to heben like 
a sky-racket.” 

“ Wid a whizz ?” asked the open-eyed Letty.” 

“ Like a sky-racket, I tell you,” continued the old 


The Late Mrs Null, 


49 


man, an’ den me an’ ole miss come up. She jes’ 
tuk one look at him and then she said in a wice, 
not like she own wice, but like Mahs’ John’s wice, 
wot had done gone forebber: ‘You Jim, come out 
o’ dat cohn and help carry him in ! ’ And we free 
carried him in. An’ you dunno ofe miss, nohow, 
an’ I don’ want to hear no fool talk from you, 
Letty, ’bout her. Jes’ you ’member dat! ” 

And with this Uncle Isham betook himself to the 
solitude of his own cabin. 

“Well,” said Letty to herself, as she rose and ap¬ 
proached the bed in the corner of the room, “ Ise 
pow’ful glad dat somebody’s gwine to take de key 
bahsket, for I nebber goes inter dat sto’-room by 
myse’f widbut tremblin’ all froo my back bone fear 
ole miss come back, an’ fin’ me dar ’lone.” 


CHAPTER V. 


When Lawrence Croft now took his afternoon 
walks in the city, he was very glad to wear a light 
overcoat, and to button it, too. But, although the 
air was getting a little nipping in New York, he 
knew that it must still be balmy and enjoyable in 
Virginia. He had never been down there at this 
season, but he had heard about the Virginia au¬ 
tumns, and, besides he had seen a lady who had had 
a letter from Roberta March. In this letter Miss 
March had written that as her father intended mak¬ 
ing a trip to Texas, and, therefore, would not come 
to New York as early as usual, she would stay at 
least a month longer with her Uncle Brandon; and 
she was glad to do it, for the weather was perfectly 
lovely, and she could stay out-of-doors all day if she 
wanted to. 

Lawrence’s walks, although very invigorating on 
account of the fine, sharp air, were not entirely cheer¬ 
ing, for they gave him an opportunity to think that 
he was making no progress whatever in his attempt 
to study the character of Junius Keswick. He had 
intrusted the search for that gentleman’s address to 
Mr Candy’s cashier, who had informed him, most 
opportunely, that she was about to set out on a 
wedding tour, and that she had possessed herself of 


The Late Mrs Null. 


5r 


clues of much value which could be readily followed 
up in connection with the projected journey. But a 
fortnight or more had elapsed without his hearing 
anything from her, and he had come to the con¬ 
clusion that hymeneal joys must have driven all 
thoughts of business out of her little head. 

After hearing that Roberta March intended pro¬ 
tracting her stay in the country the desire came to 
him to go down there himself. He would like to 
have the novel experience of that region in autumn, 
and he would like to see Roberta, but he could not 
help acknowledging to himself that the proceeding 
would scarcely be a wise one, especially as he must 
go without the desired safeguard of knowing what 
kind of man Miss March had once been willing to 
accept. He felt that if he went down to the neigh¬ 
borhood of Midbranch one of the battles of his life 
would begin, and that when he held up before him 
his figurative shield, he would see in its inner mirror 
that, on account of his own disposition toward the 
lady, he was in a condition of great peril. But, for 
all that, he wanted very much to go, and no one will 
be surprised to learn that he did go. 

He was a little embarrassed at first in regard to 
the pretext which he should make to himself for 
such a journey. Whatever satisfactory excuse he 
could make to himself in this case would, of course, 
do for other people. Although he was not prone to 
make excuses for his conduct to other people in 
general, he knew he would have to give some reason 
to Mr Brandon and Miss Roberta for his return to 


52 


The Late Mrs Null, 


Virginia so soon after having left it. He deter¬ 
mined to make a visit to the mountains of North 
Carolina, and as Midbranch would lie in his way, of 
course he would stop there. This he assured himself 
was not a subterfuge. It was a very sensible thing 
to do. He had a good deal of time on his hands 
before the city season, at least for him, would begin, 
and he had read that the autumn was an admirable 
time to visit the country of the French Broad. 
How long a stop he would make at Midbranch 
would be determined by circumstances. He was 
sorry that he would not be able to look upon Miss 
Roberta with the advantage of knowing her former 
lover, but it was something to know that she had 
had a lover. With this fact in his mind he would 
be able to form a better estimate of her than he 
had formed before. 

The man who lived in the cottage at the Green 
Sulphur Springs was somewhat surprised when Mr 
Croft arrived there, and desired to make arrange¬ 
ments, as before, for board, and the use of a saddle 
horse. But, although it was not generally con¬ 
ceded, this man knew very well that there was no 
water in the world so suitable to remedy the wear 
and tear of a city life as that of the Green Sulphur 
Springs, and therefore nobody could consider the 
young gentleman foolish for coming back again 
while the season permitted. 

Lawrence arrived at his cottage in the morning; 
and early in the afternoon of the same day he rode 
over to Midbranch. He found the country a good 


The Late Mrs Null. 


53 


deal changed, and he did not like the changes. His 
road, which ran for much of its distance through the 
woods, was covered with leaves, some green, and 
some red and yellow, and he did not fancy the 
peculiar smell of these leaves, which reminded him, 
in some way, of that gathering together of the char¬ 
acters in old-fashioned comedies shortly before the 
fall of the curtain. In many places where there 
used to be a thick shade, the foliage was now quite 
thin, and through it he could see a good deal of the 
sky. The Virginia creepers, or “ poison oaks,”.which¬ 
ever they were, were growing red upon the trunks 
of the trees as if they had been at table too long 
and showed it, and when he rode out of the woods 
he saw that the fields, which he remembered as wide, 
swelling slopes of green, with cattle and colts feed¬ 
ing here and there, were now being ploughed into 
corrugated stretches of monotonous drab and brown. 
If he had been there through all the gradual changes 
of the season, he, probably, would have enjoyed them 
as much as people ordinarily do; but coming back 
in this way, the altered landscape slightly shocked 
him. 

When he had turned into the Midbranch gate, 
but was still a considerable distance from the house, 
he involuntarily stopped his horse. He could see 
the broad steps which crossed the fence of the lawn, 
and on one side of the platform on the top sat a 
lady whom he instantly recognized as Miss Roberta; 
and on the other side of the platform sat a gentle¬ 
man. These two occupied very much the same 


54 


The Late Mrs Null. 


positions as Lawrence, himself, and Miss March 
had occupied when we first became acquainted with 
them. Lawrence looked very sharply and earnestly 
at the gentleman. Could it be Mr Brandon ? No, 
it was a much younger person. 

His first impulse was to turn and ride away, but 
this would be silly and unmanly, and he continued 
his way to the stile. His disposition to treat the 
matter with contempt made him feel how important 
the matter was to him. The gentleman on the plat¬ 
form first saw Lawrence, and announced to the lady 
that some one was coming. Miss March turned 
around, and then rose to her feet. 

“ LFpon my word! ” she exclaimed, elevating her 
eyebrows a good deal more than was usual with 
her, “ if that isn’t Mr Croft! ” 

“ Who is he ? ” asked the other, also rising. 

“He is a New York gentleman whom I know 
very well. He was down here last summer, but I 
can’t imagine what brings him here again.” 

Lawrence dismounted, tied his horse, and ap¬ 
proached the steps. Miss Roberta welcomed him 
cordially, coming down a little way to shake hands 
with him. Then she introduced the two gentlemen. 

“ Mr Croft,” she said, let me make you ac¬ 
quainted with Mr Keswick.” 

The afternoon, or the portion of it that was left, 
was spent on the porch, Mr Brandon joining the 
party. It was to him that Lawrence chiefly talked, 
for the most part about the game and scenery of 
North Carolina, with which the old gentleman was 


The Late Mrs Null. 


55 


quite familiar. But Lawrence had sufficient regard 
for himself and his position in the eyes of this 
family, to help make a good deal of general con¬ 
versation. What he said or heard, however, occu¬ 
pied only the extreme corners of his mind, the main 
portion of which was entirely filled with the chilling 
fear that that man might be the Keswick he was 
looking for. Of course, there was a bare chance 
that it was not, for there might be a numerous 
family, but even this little stupid glimmer of com¬ 
fort was extinguished when Mr Brandon familiarly 
addressed the gentleman as “ Junius.” 

Lawrence took a good look at the man he was 
anxious to study, and as far as outward appearances 
were concerned he could find no fault with Roberta 
for having accepted him. He was taller than Croft, 
and not so correctly dressed. He seemed to be a per¬ 
son whom one would select as a companion for a hunt, 
a sail, or a talk upon Political Economy. There was 
about him an air of present laziness, but it was also 
evident that this was a disposition that could easily 
be thrown off. 

Lawrence’s mind was not only very much occupied, 
but very much perturbed. It must have been all a 
mistake about the engagement having been broken 
off. If this had been the case, the easy friendliness 
of the relations between Keswick and the old gentle¬ 
man and his niece would have been impossible. Once 
or twice the thought came to Lawrence that he 
should congratulate himself for not having avowed 
his feelings toward Miss Roberta when he had an 


56 


The Late Mrs Null. 


opportunity of doing so; but his predominant 
emotion was one of disgust with his previous mode 
of action. If he had not weighed and considered 
the matter so carefully, and had been willing to take 
his chances as other men take them, he would, at 
least, have known in what relation he stood to Rob¬ 
erta, and would not have occupied the ridiculous 
position in which he now felt himself to be. 

When he took his leave, Roberta went with him 
to the stile. As they walked together across the 
smooth, short grass, a new set of emotions arose in 
Lawrence’s mind which drove out every other. 
They were grief, chagrin, and even rage, at not hav¬ 
ing won this woman. As to actual speech, there 
was nothing he could say, although his soul boiled 
and bubbled within him in his desire to speak. But 
if he had anything to say, now was his chance, for 
he had told them that he would proceed with his 
journey the next day. 

Miss Roberta had a way of looking up, and look¬ 
ing down at the same time, particularly when she 
had asked a question and was waiting for the answer. 
Her face would be turned a little down, but her eyes 
would look up and give a very charming expression 
to those upturned eyes ; and if she happened to allow 
the smile, with which she ceased speaking, to remain 
upon her pretty lips, she generally had an answer of 
some sort very soon. If for no other reason, it 
would be given that she might ask another question. 
It was in this manner she said to Lawrence: “ Do 
you really go away from us to-morrow ? ” 


The Late Mrs Null. 


57 


^‘Yes,” said he, “ I shall push on.” 

“ Do you not find the country very beautiful at 
this season? ” asked Miss Roberta, after a few steps 
in silence. 

“ I don’t like autumn,” answered Lawrence. 
‘‘ Everything is drying up and dying. I would 
rather see things dead.” 

Roberta looked at him without turning her head. 
“But it will be just as bad in North Carolina,” she 
said. 

“ There is an autumn in ourselves,” he answered, 
“ just as much as there is in Nature. I won’t see 
so much of that down there.” 

“ In some cases,” said Roberta, slowly, “autumn 
is impossible.” 

They had reached the bottom of the steps, and 
Lawrence turned and looked toward her. “ Do you 
mean,” he asked, “ when there has been no real 
summer?” 

Roberta laughed. “ Of course,” said she, “ if there 
has been no summer there can be no autumn. But 
you know there are places where it is summer all 
the time. Would you like to live in such a clime ? ” 

Lawrence Croft put one foot on the step, and 
then he drew it back. “ Miss March,” said he, “ my 
train does not leave until the afternoon, and I am 
coming over here in the morning to have one more 
walk in the woods with you. May I ? ” 

“ Certainly,” she said, “ I shall be delighted ; that 
is, if you can overlook the fact that it is autumn.” 

When Miss Roberta returned to the house she 


58 


The Late Mrs Null. 


found Junius Keswick sitting on a bench on the 
porch. She went over to him, and took a seat at 
the other end of the bench. 

So your gentleman is gone,” he said. 

“ Yes,” she answered, “ but only for the present. 
He is coming back in the morning.” 

“ What for ? ” asked Keswick, a little abruptly. 

Miss Roberta took off her hat, for there was no 
need of a hat on a shaded porch, and holding it by 
the ribbons, she let it gently slide down toward her 
feet. He is coming,” she said, speaking rather 
slowly, “ to take a walk with me, and I know very 
well that when we have reached some place where 
he is sure there is no one to hear him, he is going 
to tell me that he loves me; that he did not intend 
to speak quite so soon, but that circumstances have 
made it impossible for him to restrain himself any 
longer, and he will ask me to be his wife.” 

“ And what are you going to say to him ? ” asked 
Keswick. 

“ I don’t know,” replied Roberta, her eyes fixed 
upon the hat which she still held by its long rib¬ 
bons. 

The next morning Junius Keswick, who had been 
up a long, long time before breakfast, sat, after that 
meal, looking at Roberta who was reading a book in 
the parlor. “ She is a strange girl,” thought he. “ I 
cannot understand her. How is it possible that she 
can sit there so placidly reading that volume of 
Huxley, which I know she never saw before and 
which she has opened just about the middle, on a 


The Late Mrs Null, 


59 


morning when she is expecting a man who will say 
things to her which may change her whole life. I 
could almost imagine that she has forgotten all 
about it.” 

Peggy, who had just entered the room to inform 
her mistress that Aunt Judy was ready for her, 
stood in rigid uprightness, her torpid eyes settled 
upon the lady. “ I reckon,” so ran the thought 
within the mazes of her dark little interior, “ dat 
Miss Rob’s wuss disgruntled dan she was dat 
ebenin’ when I make my cake, fur she got two 
dif’ent kinds o’ shoes on.” 

The morning went on, and Keswick found that 
he must go out again for a walk, although he had 
rambled several miles before breakfast. After her 
household duties had been completed. Miss Roberta 
took her book out to the porch ; and about noon 
when her uncle came out and made some remarks 
upon the beauty of the day, she turned over the 
page at which she had opened the volume just after 
breakfast. An hour later Peggy brought her some 
luncheon, and felt it to be her duty to inform Miss 
Rob that she still wore one old boot and a new 
one. When Roberta returned to the porch after 
making a suitable change, she found Keswick there 
looking a little tired. 

“ Has your friend gone ? ” he asked, in a very 
quiet tone. 

He has not come yet,” she answered. 

Not come ! ” exclaimed Keswick. “ That’s odd ! 
However, there are two hours yet before dinner.” 


6o 


The Late Mrs Null. 


The two hours passed and no Lawrence Croft 
appeared ; nor came he at all that day. About 
dusk the man at the Green Sulphur Springs rode 
over with a note from Mr Croft. The note was to 
Miss March, of course, and it simply stated that 
the writer was very sorry he could not keep the 
appointment he had made with her, but that it 
had suddenly become necessary for him to return 
to the North without continuing the journey he 
had planned ; that he was much grieved to be de¬ 
prived of the opportunity of seeing her again; but 
that he would give himself the pleasure, at the 
earliest possible moment, of calling on Miss March 
when she arrived in New York. 

When Miss Roberta had read this note she handed 
it to Keswick, who, when he returned it, asked : 
“ Does that suit you ? ” 

“ No,” said she, “ it does not suit me at all.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


It was mail day at the very small village known 
as Hewlett’s, and to the fence in front of the post- 
office were attached three mules and a horse. In¬ 
side the yard, tied to the low bough of a tree, was a 
very lean and melancholy horse, on which had lately 
arrived Wesley Green, the negro man who, twice a 
week, brought the mail from Pocohontas, a railway 
station, twenty miles away. There was a station 
not six miles from Howlett’s, but, for some reason, 
the mail bag was always brought from and carried to 
Pocohontas; Wesley Green requiring a whole day 
for a deliberate transit between the two points. 

In the post-office, which was the front room of a 
small wooden house approached by a high flight of 
steps, was the postmistress. Miss Harriet Corvey, 
who sat on the floor in one corner, while before her 
extended a semicircle of men and boys. In this 
little assemblage certain elderly men occupied seats 
which were considered to belong to them quite as 
much as if they had been hired pews in a church, 
and behind them stood up a row of tall young men 
and barefooted boys of the neighborhood, while, 
farthest in the rear, were some quiet little darkies 
with mail bags slung across their shoulders. 

On a chair to the right, and most convenient to 


62 


The Late Mrs Null. 


Miss Harriet, sat old Madison Chalkley, the biggest 
and most venerable citizen of the neighborhood. Mr 
Chalkley never, by gmy chance, got a letter, the only 
mail matter he received being, “ The Southern Bap¬ 
tist Recorder,” which came on Saturdays, but, like 
most of the people present, he was at the post- 
office every mail day to see who got anything. Next 
to him sat Colonel Iston, a tall, lean, quiet old 
gentleman, who had, for a long series of years, oc¬ 
cupied the position of a last apple on a tree. He 
had no relatives, no friends with whom he corre¬ 
sponded, no business that was not conducted by 
word of mouth. In the last fifteen years he had re¬ 
ceived but one letter, and that had so surprised him 
that he carried it about with him three days before 
he opened it, and then he found that it was really 
intended for a gentleman of the same name in 
another county. And yet everybody knew that if 
Colonel Iston failed to appear in his place on mail 
day, it would be because he was dead or prostrated 
by sickness. 

With the mail bag on the floor at her left. 
Miss Harriet, totally oblivious of any law for¬ 
bidding the opening of the mails in public, would 
put her hand into its open mouth, draw forth a letter 
or a paper, hold it up in front of her spectacles, and 
call out the name of its owner. Most of the letters 
went to the black boys with the mail bags who came 
from country houses in the neighborhood, but who- 
ever received letter, journal, or agricultural circular, 
received also at the same time the earnest gaze of 


The Late Mrs Null, 


63 


everybody else in the room. Sometimes there was 
a letter for which there was no applicant present 
and then Miss Harriet would say : “ Is anybody go¬ 
ing past Mrs Willis Summerses?’’ And if any¬ 
body was, he would take the letter, and it is to be 
hoped he remembered to deliver it in the course of a 
week. 

In spite of the precautions of the postmistress 
uncalled for letters would gradually accumulate, 
and there was a little bundle of these in one of the 
few pigeon holes in a small desk in the corner of the 
room, in the drawer of which the postage stamps 
were kept. Now and then a registered letter would 
arrive, and this always created considerable sensa¬ 
tion in the room, and if the legal recipient did not 
happen to be present. Miss Harriet never breathed 
a quiet breath until he or she had been sent for, had 
taken the letter, and given her a receipt. Sometimes 
she sat up as late as eleven o’clock at night on mail 
days, hoping that some one who had been sent for 
would arrive to relieve her of a registered letter. 

All the mail matter had been distributed, every¬ 
body but Mr Madison Chalkley had left the room ; 
and when the old gentleman, as was his wont on 
the first day of the month, had gone up to the desk, 
untied the bundle of uncalled-for letters, the outer 
ones permanently rounded by the tightness of the 
cord, and after carefully looking over them, one. by 
one, had made his usual remark about the folly of 
people who wouldn’t stay in a place until their 
letters could get to them, had tied up the bundle 


64 


The Late Mrs Null, 


and taken his departure; then Miss Harriet put the 
empty mail bag under the desk, and went up-stairs 
where an old lady sat by the window, sewing in the 
fading light. 

“No letters for you to-day, Mrs Keswick,” said 
she. 

“ Of course not,” was the answer, “ I didn’t ex¬ 
pect any.” 

“ Don’t you think,” said Miss Harriet, taking a 
seat opposite the old lady, “ that it is about time 
for you to go home and attend to your affairs ? ” 

“ Well, upon my word ! ” said Mrs Keswick, let¬ 
ting her hands and her work fall in her lap, “ that’s 
truly hospitable. I didn’t expect it of you, Harriet 
Corvey.” 

“ I wouldn’t have said it,” returned the postmis¬ 
tress, “ if I hadn’t felt dead certain that you knew 
you were always welcome here. But Tony Miles 
told me, just before the mail came in, that the lady 
who’s at your place is running it herself, and that 
she’s going to use pickle brine for a fertilizer.” 

“ Very likely,” said Mrs Keswick, her face totally 
unmoved by this intelligence—“ very likely. That’s 
the way they used to do in ancient times, or some¬ 
thing of the same kind. They used to sow salt 
over their enemy’s land so that nothing would ever 
grow there. That woman’s family has sowed salt 
over the lands of me and mine for three generations, 
and it’s quite natural she should come here' to finish 
up. 

There was a little silence after this, and then Miss 


The Late Mrs Null. 


6< 


Harriet remarked : “Your people must know where 
you are. Why don’t they come and tell you about 
these things ? ” 

“ They know better,” answered Mrs Keswick, 
with a grim smile. “ I went away once before, and 
Uncle Isham hunted me up, and he got a lesson 
that he’ll never forget. When I want them to 
know where I am, Til tell them.” 

“ But really and truly’’—said Miss Harriet “ and 
you know I only speak to you for your own good, 
for you pay your board here, and if you didn’t 
you’d be just as welcome—do you intend to.k^ep 
^ away from your own house as long as that lady 
chooses to stay there ? ” 

“ Exactly so long,” answered the old lady. “ I 
shall not keep them out of my house if they choose 
to come to it. No member of my family ever did 
that. There is the house, and they are free to enter 
it, but they shall not find me there. If there was 
any reason to believe that everything was dropped 
and done with, I would be as glad to see him as any¬ 
body could be, but I knew from his letter just what 
he was going to say when he came, and as things 
have turned out, I see that it was all worse than I 
expected. He and Roberta March were both com¬ 
ing, and they thought that together they could 
talk me down, and make me forgive and be happy, 
and all that stuff. But as I wasn’t there, of course 
he wouldn’t stay, and so there she is now by herself. 
She thinks I must come home after a while, and the 
minute I do that, back he’ll come, and then they’ll 
5 


66 


The Late Mrs Null, 


have just what they wanted. But I reckon she’ll 
find that I can stick it out just as long as she can. If 
Roberta March turns things upside down there, it’ll 
be because she can’t keep her hands out of mischief, 
and that proves that she belongs to her own family. 
If there’s any harm done, it don’t matter so much 
to me, and it will be worse for him in the end. 
And now, Harriet Corvey, if you’ve got to make up 
the mail to go away early in the morning, you’d bet¬ 
ter have supper over and get about it.” 

Meanwhile, at Mrs Keswick’s house Mrs Null 
w^^cting just as conscientiously as she knew how. 
She had had some conversations with Freddy on the', 
subject, and she had assured him, and at the same 
time herself, that what she, was doing was the only 
thing that could be done. “ It was dreadfully hard 
for me to get the money to come down here,” she 
said to him,—“ you not helping me a bit, as ordinary 
husbands do—and I can’t afford to go back until I 
have accomplished something. It’s very strange 
that she stays away so long, without telling anybody 
where she has gone to, but I know she is queer, and 
I suppose she has her own reasons for what she 
does. She can’t be staying away on my account, 
for she doesn’t know who I am, and wouldn’t have 
any objections to me if she did know. I suspect it 
is something about Junius which keeps her away, 
and I suppose she thinks he is still here. But one 
of them must soon come back, and if I can see him, 
or find out from her where he is, it will be all right. 
It seems to me, Freddy, that if I could have a good 


The Late Mrs Null. 


67 


talk with Junius things would begin to look better 
for you and me. And then I want to put him on 
his guard about this gentleman who is looking for 
him. By the way, I suppose I ought to write a 
letter to Mr Croft, or he’ll think I have given up 
the job, and will set somebody else on the track, and 
that is what I don’t want him to do. I can’t say 
that I have positively anything to report, bijt I can 
say that I have strong hopes of success, considering 
where I am. As soon as I found that Junius had 
really left the North, I concluded that this would 
be the best place to come to for him. And now, 
Freddy, there’s nothing for us to do but to w5|f^nd 
if we can make ourselves useful here I’m sure we 
will be glad to do it. ,We both hate being lazy, and 
a little housekeeping and farm managing will be 
good practice for us during our honeymoon.” 

Putting on her hat, she went down into the 
garden where uncle Isham was at work. She could 
find little to do there, for he was merely pulling 
turnips, and she could see nothing to suggest in re¬ 
gard to his method of work. She had found, too, 
that the old negro had not much respect for her 
agricultural opinions. He attended to his work as 
if his mistress had been at home, and although, in re¬ 
gard to the ploughing, he had carried out the orders 
of Mrs Null, he had done it because it ought to be 
done, and because he was very glad for some one 
else to take the responsibility. 

“Uncle Isham,” said she, after she had watched 
the process of turnip pulling for a few minutes, “ if 


68 


The Late Mrs NulL 


you haven’t anything else to do when you get 
through with this, you might come up to the house, 
and I will talk to you about the flower beds, I sup¬ 
pose they ought to be made ready for the winter.” 

“ Miss Null,” said the old man, slowly unbending 
his back, and getting himself upright, dar’s alius 
sumfin’ else to do. Eber sence I was fus’ bawn dar 
was sumfin else to do, an’ I spec’s it’ll keep on dat 
ar way till de day I dies.” 

“ Of course there will be nothing else to do then 
but to die,” observed Mrs Null; ‘^but I hope tj?at 
day^ is far off. Uncle Isham.” 

“ Dunno ’bout dat. Miss Null,” said he. “But 
den some people do lib drefifle long. Look at ole 
Aun’ Patsy. Ise got to live a long time afore I’s as 
ole as Aun’ Patsy is now.” . 

“You don’t mean to say,” exclaimed Mrs Null, 
“ that Aunt Patsy is alive yet! ” 

“ Ob course she is. Miss Null,” said Uncle Isham. 
“ If she’d died sence you’ve been here we’d a tole 
you, sartin. She w’as gwine to die las’ week, but two 
or free days don’ make much dif’rence to Aun’ 
Patsy, she done lib so long anyhow.” 

“Aunt Patsy alive ! ” exclaimed Mrs Null again. 
“ I’m going straight off to see her.” 

When she had reached the house, and had in¬ 
formed Letty where she was going, the rotund 
maid expressed high approbation of the visit, and 
offered to send Plez to show Miss Null the way. 

“ I don’t need any one to g© with me,” said that 
lady, and away she started. 



The Late Mrs NulL 


69 


“She don’ neber want nobody to show her no- 
whar,” said Plez, returning with looks of much dis¬ 
approbation to his business of peeling potatoes for 
dinner. 

When Mrs Null reached the cabin of Aunt Patsy, 
after about fifteen minutes’ walk, she entered with¬ 
out ceremony, and found the old woman sitting on 
a very low chair by the window, with the much- 
talked-of, many-colored quilt in her lap. Her white 
woolly head was partially covered with a red and 
yellow handkerchief, and an immense pair of iron- 
bound spectacles obstructed the view of her small 
black face, lined and seamed in such a way that it 
appeared to have shrunk to half its former size. In 
her long, bony fingers, rusty black on the outside, 
and a very pale tan on the inside, she held a coarse 
needle and thread and a corner of the quilt. Near 
. by, in front of a brick-paved fireplace, was one of 
her great-granddaughters, a girl about eighteen 
years old, who was down upon her hands and knees, 
engaged with lungs, more powerful than ordinary 
bellows, in blowing into flame a coal upon the 
hearth. 

“How d’ye Aunt Patsy?” said Mrs Null. “I 
didn’t expect to see you looking so well.” 

“Dat’s Miss Null,” said the girl, raising, her eyes 
from the fire, and addressing her ancestor. 

The old woman stuck her needle into the quilt, 
and reached out her hand to her visitor, who took 
it cordially. 

“How d’ye, miss?” said Aunt Patsy, in a thin 


70 


The Late Mrs Null, 


but quite firm voice, while the young woman got up 
and brought Mrs Null a chair, very short in the legs, 
very high in the back, and with its split-oak bottom 
very much sunken. 

How are you feeling to-day. Aunt Patsy ? ” asked 
Mrs Null, gazing with much interest on the aged face. 

“ 'Bout as common,” replied the old woman. ‘‘ I 
didn’t spec’ to be libin’ dis week, but I ain’t got my 
quilt done yit, an’ I can’t go ’mong de angels wrop 
in a shroud wid one corner off.” 

“Certainly not,” answered Mrs Null. “Haven’t 
you pieces enough to finish it ? ” 

“ Oh, yaas, I got bits enough, but de trouble is to 
sew ’em up. I can’t sew very fas’ nowadays.” 

“ It’s a pity for you to have to do it yourself,” 
said Mrs Null. “Can’t this young person, your 
daughter, do it for you ? ” 

“ Dat’s not my darter,” said the old woman.- 
“ Dat’s my son Tom’s yaller boy Bob’s chile. Bob’s 
dead. She can’t do no sewin’ for me. I’m-’not 
gwine ter hab folks sayin’, Aun’ Patsy done got so 
ole she can’t do her own sewin’.” 

“If you are not going to die till you get your 
quilt finished. Aunt Patsy,” said Mrs Null, “ I hope 
it won’t be done for a long time.” 

“ Don’ do to be waitin’ too long. Miss. De fus’ 
thing you know some udder culled pusson’ll be 
dyin’ wrop up in a quilt like dis, and git dar fus’. 

Mrs Null now looked about her with much in¬ 
terest, and asked many questions in regard to the 
old woman’s comfort and ailments. To these the 


The Late Mrs Null. 


answers, though on the whole satisfactory, were 
quite short, Aunt Patsy, apparently, much prefer¬ 
ring to look at her visitor than to talk to her. And 
a very pretty young woman she was to look at, with 
a face which had grown brighter and plumper dur¬ 
ing every day of her country sojourn. 

When Mrs Null'had gone, promising to send 
Aunt Patsy something nice to eat, the old woman 
turned to her great-grand-daughter, and said, Did 
anybody come wid her?” 

^‘Nobody corned,” said the girl. “Reckon’ she 
done git herse’f los’ some o’ dese days.” 

The old woman made no answer, but folding up 
the maniac coverlid, she handed it to the girl, and 
told her to put it away. 

That night Uncle Isham, by Mrs Null’s orders, 
carried to Aunt Patsy a basket, containing various 
good things considered suitable for an aged colored 
woman without teeth. 

“Miss Annie sen’ dese h’yar?” asked the old 
woman, taking the basket and lifting the lid. 

“ Miss Annie ! ” exclaimed Uncle Isham. “ Who 
she?” 

“ Git out. Uncle Isham ! ” said Aunt Patsy, some¬ 
what impatiently. “ She was h’yar dis mawnin’.” 

“Dat was Miss Null,” said Isham. 

“ Miss Annie all de same,” said Aunt Patsy, “ on’y 
growed up an’ married. D’ye mean to stan’ dar, 
Uncle Isham, an’ tell me you don’ know de little 
gal wot Mahs’ John use ter carry in he arms ter feed 
de tukkies?” 


72 


The Late Mrs Null, 


“ She and she mudderdead long ago,” said Isham. 
“ You is pow’ful ole, Aun’ Patsy, an’ you done forgit 
dese things.” 

Done forgit nuffin,” curtly replied the old woman. 
“ Don’ tell me no moh’ fool stuff. Dat Miss Annie, 
growed up an’ married.” 

“ Did she tell you dat? ” asked Isham. 

“She didn’t tell me nuffin’. She kep’her mouf 
shet ’bout dat, an’ I kep’ my mouf shet. Don’ talk 
to me ! Dat’s Miss Annie, shuh as shootin’. Ef she 
hadn’t fotch nuffin’ ’long wid her but her eyes I’d a 
knowed dem ; same ole eyes dey all had. An’ ’sides 
dat, you fool Isham, ef she not Miss Annie, wot she 
come down h’yar fur?” 

“Neber thinked o’dat! ” said Uncle Isham, re¬ 
flectively. “ Ef you’s so pow’ful shuh, Aun’ Patsy, 
I reckon dat is Miss Annie. Couldn’t ’spec me to 
’member her. I wasn’t much up at de house in 
dem times, an’ she was took away ’fore I give much 
’tention ter her.” 

“ Don’ ole miss know she dar ? ” asked Aunt Patsy. 

“ She dunno nuffin’ ’bout it,” answered Isham. 
“She’s stayin’ away cos she think Mahs’ Junius dar 
yit.” 

“Why don’ you tell her, now you knows it’s Miss 
Annie wot’s dar ? ” 

“You don’ ketch me tellin her nuffin’,” replied 
the old man shaking his head. “Wish you was 
spry ’nuf ter go, Aun’ Patsy. She’d b’lieve you ; 
an’ she couldn’t rar an’ charge inter a ole pusson 
like you, nohow.” 


The Late Mrs Null, 


73 


Ain’t dar nobody else in dis h’yar place to go 
tell her ? ” asked Aunt Patsy. 

Not a pusson,” was Isham’s decided answer. 

“Well den I is spry ’nuf ! ” exclaimed Aunt Patsy, 
with a vigorous nod of her head which sent her 
spectacles down to her mouth, displaying a pair of 
little eyes sparkling with a fire, long thought to be 
extinct. “ Ef you’ll carry me dar, to Miss Harriet 
Corvey’s, I’ll tell ole miss myse’f. I didn’t ’spec to 
go out dat dohr till de fun’ral, but I’ll go dis time. 
I spected dar was sumfin’ crooked when Miss Annie 
didn’t tole me who she was. Ise not ’feared to tell 
ole miss, an’you jes’ carry me up dar. Uncle Isham.” 

“ I’ll do dat,” said the old man, much delighted 
with the idea of doing something which he supposed 
would remove the clouds which overhung the house¬ 
hold of his mistress. “ I’ll fotch de hoss an’ de 
spring waggin an’ dribe you ober dar.” 

“No, you don’ do no sech thing!” exclaimed 
Aunt Patsy, angrily. “ I ain’t gwine to hab no bosses 
to run away, an’ chuck me out on de road. Ef you 
kin fotch de'oxen an’ de cart, I go ’long wid you, 
but I don’ want no bosses.” 

“ Dat’s fus’ rate,” said Isham. “I’ll fotch de ox 
cart, an’ carry you ober. When you want ter go ? ” 

“ Dunno jes’ now,” said Aunt Patsy, pushing 
away a block of wood which served for a footstool, 
and making elaborate preparations to rise from her 
chain “ I’ll sen’ fur you when I’s ready.” 

The next morning was a very busy one for Aunt 
Patsy’s son Tom’s yellow boy Bob’s child; and by 


74 


The Late Mrs Null, 


afternoon it was necessary to send for two colored 
women from a neighboring cabin to assist in the pre¬ 
parations which Aunt Patsy was making for her pro¬ 
jected visit. An old hair covered trunk, which had 
not been opened for many years, was brought out, 
and the contents exposed to the unaccustomed light 
of day; two coarse cotton petticoats were exhumed 
and ordered to be bleached and ironed; a yellow 
flannel garment of the same nature was put aside to 
be mended with some red pieces which were rolled 
up in it; out of several yarn stockings of various 
ages and lengths two were selected as being pretty 
much alike, and laid by to be darned; an old black 
frock with full ‘‘ bishop sleeves,'’a good deal mended 
and dreadfully wrinkled, was given to one of the 
neighbors, expert in such matters, to be ironed ; 
and the propriety of making use of various other 
ancient duds was eagerly and earnestly discussed. 
Aunt Patsy, whose vitality had been wonderfully 
aroused, now that there-was some opportunity for 
making use of it, spent nearly two hours turning 
over, examining, and reflecting upon a pair of old- 
fashioned corsets, which, although they had been 
long cherished, she had never worn. She now hoped 
that the occasion for their use had at last arrived, 
but the utter impossibility of getting herself into 
them was finally made apparent to her, and she 
mournfully returned them to the trunk. 

Washing, starching, ironing, darning, patching, and 
an immense deal of talk and consultation, occupied 
that and a good deal of the following day, the rest 


The Late Mrs Null, 


75 


of which was given up to the repairing of an im¬ 
mense pair of green baize shoes, without which Aunt 
Patsy could not be persuaded to go into the outer 
air. It was Saturday morning when she began to 
dress for the trip, and although Isham, wearing a 
high silk hat, and a long black coat which had once 
belonged to a clergyman, arrived with the ox cart 
about noon, the old woman was not ready to start 
till two or three hours afterward. Her assistants, 
who had increased in number, were active and 
assiduous. Aunt Patsy was very particular as to the 
manner of her garbing, and gave them a great deal 
of trouble. It had been fifteen years since she had 
set foot outside of her house, and ten more since 
she had ridden in any kind of vehicle. This was a 
great occasion, and nothing concerning it was to be 
considered lightly. 

“ ’Tain’t right,” she said to Uncle Isham when he 
arrived, “ fur a pow’ful ole pusson like me to set out 
on a jarney ob dis kin’ ’thout ’ligious sarvices. ’Tain’t 
’spectable.” 

Uncle Isham rubbed his head a good deal at this 
remark. “ Dunno wot we gwine to do ’bout dat,” 
he said. “ Brudder Jeemes lib free miles off, an’ 
mos’ like he’s out ditchin’. Couldn’t git him h’yar 
dis ebenin’, nohow.” 

Well den,” said Aunt Patsy, “ you conduc’ sar¬ 
vices yourse’f. Uncle Isham, an’ we kin have prar 
m^etin’, anyhow.” 

Uncle Isham having consented to this, he put his 
oxen under the care of a small boy, and collecting 


76 


The Late Mrs Null. 


in Aunt Patsy’s room the five colored women and 
girls who were in attendance upon her, he con¬ 
ducted “ prars,” making an extemporaneous petition 
which comprehended all the probable contingencies 
of the journey, even to the accident of the right 
wheel of the cart coming off, which the old man 
very reverently asserted that he would have lynched 
with a regular pin instead of a broken poker handle, 
if he could have found one. After the prayer, with 
which Aunt Patsy signified her entire satisfaction 
by frequent Amens, the company joined in the 
vigorous singing of a hymn, in which they stated 
that they were ‘‘gwine down to Jurdun, an’ tho’ 
the road is rough, when once we shuh we git dar, 
we all be glad enough; de rocks an’ de stones, an’ 
de jolts to de bones will be nuffin’ to de glory an’ 
de jiy.” 

The hymn over. Uncle Isham clapped on his 
hat, and hurried menacingly after the small boy, 
who had let the oxen wander along the roadside 
until one wheel of the cart was nearly in the ditch. 
Aunt Patsy now partook of a collation, consisting 
of a piece of hoe-cake dipped in pork fat, and a cup 
of coffee, which having finished, she declared herself 
ready to start. A chair was put into the cart, and 
secured by ropes to keep it from slipping; and then, 
with two women on one side and Uncle Isham on 
the other, while another woman stood in the cart 
to receive and adjust her, she was placed in posi¬ 
tion. 

Once properly disposed she presented a figure 


The Late Mrs Null. 


77 


which elicited the lively admiration of her friends, 
whose number was now increased by the arrival of 
a couple of negro boys on mules, who were going 
to the post-office, it being Saturday, and mail day. 
Around Aunt Patsy’s shoulders was a bright blue 
worsted shawl, and upon her head a voluminous 
turban of vivid red and yellow. Since their eman- 
^cipation, the negroes in that part of the country 
had discarded the positive and gaudy colors that 
were their delight when they were slaves, and had 
transferred their fancy to delicate pinks, pale blues, 
and similar shades. But Aunt Patsy’s ideas about 
dress were those of by-gone days, and she was too 
old now to change them, and her brightest hand¬ 
kerchief had been selected for her head on this im¬ 
portant day. Above her she held a parasol, which 
had been graciously loaned by her descendant of 
the fourth generation. It was white, and lined 
with pink, and on the edges still lingered some 
fragments of cotton lace. 

Uncle Isham now took his position by the side 
of his oxen, and started them; and slowly creaking, 
Aunt Patsy’s vehicle moved off, followed by the 
two boys on mules, three colored women and two 
girls on foot, and by two little black urchins who 
were sometimes on foot, but invariably on the tail 
of the cart when they could manage to evade the 
backward turn of Uncle Isham’s eye. 

'‘Ef I should go to glory on de road. Uncle 
Isham,” said Aunt Patsy, as the right wheel of the 
cart emerged from a rather awkward rut, “ I don’ 


78 


The Late Mrs Null. 


want no fuss made 'bout me. You kin jes’ bury me 
in de clothes I got on, ’cep’n de pararsol, ob course, 
which is Liza’s. Jes’iwrop de quilt all roun’ me, an’ 
hab a extry size coffin. You needn’t do nuffin’ 
more’n dat.” 

“ Oh, you’s not gwine to glory dis time, Aun’ 
Patsy,” replied Uncle Isham, who did not want to 
encourage the idea of the old woman’s departure, 
from life while in his ox cart. But after this re¬ 
mark of the old woman he was extraordinarily care¬ 
ful in regard to jolts and bumps. 

When the procession reached the domain of Miss 
Harriet Corvey, there was gathered inside the yard 
quite a number of the usual attendants on mail days, 
awaiting the arrival of Wesley Green with his wad¬ 
dling horse and leather bag. But all interest in the 
coming of the mail was lost in the surprise and ad¬ 
miration excited by the astounding apparition of 
old Aunt Patsy in the ox cart, attended by her 
retinue. As the oxen, skilfully guided by Uncle 
Isham’s long prod, turned into the yard, everybody 
came forward to find out the reason of this un¬ 
looked-for occurrence. Even old Madison Chalkley, 
his stout legs swaddled in home-made overalls, dis¬ 
mounted from his horse, and Colonel Iston raised 
his tall form from the porch step where he had 
been sitting, and approached the cart. 

“ Upon my word,” said a young fellow, with high 
boots, slouched hat, and a riding whip, “ if here ain’t 
old Aunt Patsy come after a letter ! Where do you 
expect a letter from. Aunt Patsy ? ” 


The Late Mrs Null. 


79 


The old woman fixed her spectacles on him for 
an instant, and then said in a clear voice which 
could be heard by all the little crowd : “ Tain’t from 
nobody dat I owes any money to, nohow, Mahs’ Bill 
Trimble.” 

A general laugh followed this rejoinder, and Uncle 
Isham grinned with gratified pride in the enduring 
powers of his charge. The old woman now put 
down her parasol, and made as if she would descend 
from the cart. 

“You needn’t git out, Aun’ Patsy,” said several 
negro boys at once. “We’ll fotch your letters to 

yy 

you. 

“ Git ’long wid you! ” said the old woman 
angrily. “ I didn’t come here fur no letters. Ef 
I wanted letters I’d sen’ ’Liza fur ’em. Git out de 
way.” 

A chair was now brought, and placecHiear the cart; 
a woman mounted into the vehicle to assist her; 
Uncle Isham and another colored man stood ready 
to receive her, and Aunt Patsy began her descent. 
This, to her mind, was a much more difficult and 
dangerous proceeding than getting into the cart, 
and she was very slow and cautious about it. First, 
one of her great green baize feet was put over the 
tai’ of the cart, and resting her weight upon the 
two men. Aunt Patsy allowed it to descen’d to the 
chair, where it was gradually followed by the other 
foot. Having safely accomplished this much, the 
old woman ejaculated : “ Bress de Lor’ ! ” When, 
in the same prudent manner, she had reached the 


8o 


The Late Mrs Null, 


ground, she heaved a sigh of relief, and fervently ex¬ 
claimed: “ De Lor’ be bressed ! ” 

Supported by Uncle Isham, and the other man, 
Aunt Patsy now approached the steps. She was so 
old, so little, so bowed, and so apparently feeble, 
that several persons remonstrated with her for 
attempting to go into the house when anything she 
wanted would be gladly done for her. “ Much 
’bliged,” said the old woman, ‘‘ but I don’ want no 
letters nor nuffin’. I’s come to make a call on de 
white folks, an’ I’s gwine in.” 

This announcement was received with a laugh, 
and she was allowed to proceed without further hin¬ 
drance. She got up the porch steps without much 
difficulty, her supporters taking upon themselves 
most of the necessary exertion ; but when she reached 
the top, she dispensed with their assistance. Shuf¬ 
fling to the front door, she there met Miss Harriet 
Corvey, who greeted the old woman with much 
surprise, but shook hands with her very cordially. 

“ Ebenin’, Miss Har’et,” said Aunt Patsy. And 
then, lowering her voice she asked: “ Is ole miss 
h’yar ? ” 

Miss Harriet hesitated a moment, and then she 
answered: Yes, she is, but I don’t believe she’ll 
come down to see you.” 

“Oh, I’ll go up-stars,” said Aunt Patsy. “Whar 
she?” 

“ She’s in the spare chamber,” said Miss Harriet; 
and Aunt Patsy, with a nod of the head signifying 
that she knew all about that room, crossed the hall. 


The Late Mrs Null, 


8i 


^nd began, slowly but steadily, to ascend the stairs. 
Miss Harriet gazed upon her with amazement, for 
Aunt Patsy had been considered chair-ridden when 
the postmistress was a young woman. Arrived at 
the end of her toilsome ascent, Aunt Patsy knocked 
at the door of the spare chamber, and as the voice 
of her old mistress said, “ Come in! ” she went in. 


V 


CHAPTER VII. 


When Lawrence Croft reached the Green Sul¬ 
phur Springs, after his interview with Miss March, 
his soul was still bubbling and boiling with emotion, 
and it continued in that condition all night, at least 
during that great part of the night of which he was 
conscious. The sight of the lady he loved, under 
the new circumstances in which he found her, had 
determined him to throw prudence and precaution 
to the winds, and to ask her at once to be his wife. 

But the next morning Lawrence arose very late. 
His coffee had evidently been warmed over, and his 
bacon had been cooked for a long, long time. The 
world did not appear to him in a favorable light, 
and he was obliged to smoke two cigars before he 
was at all satisfied with it. While he was smoking 
he did a good deal of thinking, and it was then that 
he came to the conclusion that he would not go 
over to Midbranch and propose to Roberta March. 
Such precipitate action would be unjust to himself 
and unjust to her. In her eyes it would probably 
appear to be the act of a man who had been sud¬ 
denly spurred to action by the sight of a rival, and 
this, if Roberta was the woman he believed her to 
be, would prejudice her against him. And yet he 
knew very well that these reasons would avail 


The Late Mrs Null. 


83 


nothing if he should see her as he intended. He 
had found that he was much more in love with her 
than he had supposed,.and he felt positively certain 
that the next time he was alone with her he would 
declare his passion. 

Another thing that he felt he should consider 
was that the presence of Keswick, if looked upon 
with a philosophic eye, was not a reason for im¬ 
mediate action. If the old engagement had posi¬ 
tively been broken off, he was at the house merely 
as a family friend; while, on the other hand, if the 
rupture had not been absolute, and if Roberta really 
loved this tall Southerner and wished to marry him, 
there was a feeling of honor about Lawrence which 
forbade him to interfere at this moment. When 
she came to New York he would find out how 
matters really stood, and then he would determine 
on his own action. 

• And yet he would have proposed to Roberta that 
moment if he had had the opportunity. Her per¬ 
sonal presence would have banished philosophy, and 
even honor. 

Lawrence was a long time in coming to these 
conclusions, and it was late in the afternoon when 
he despatched his note. Having now given up his 
North Carolina trip—one object of which had been 
still another visit to Midbranch on his return—he 
was obliged to wait until the next day for a train to 
the North ; and, consequently, he had another eve¬ 
ning to devote to reflections. These, after a time, be¬ 
came unsatisfactory. He had told the exact truth in 


84 


The Late Mrs NttlL 


his note to Roberta, for he felt that it was necessary 
for him to leave that part of the country in order to 
make impossible an interview for which he believed 
the proper time had not arrived. He was consult¬ 
ing his best interests, and also, no doubt, those of 
the lady. And yet, in spite of this reasoning, he 
was not satisfied with himself. He felt that his 
note was not entirely honest and true. There was 
subterfuge about it, and something of duplicity. 
This he believed was foreign to his nature, and he 
did not like it. 

Lawrence had scarcely finished his breakfast the 
next morning when Mr Junius Keswick arrived at 
the door of his cottage. This gentleman had walked 
over from Midbranch and was a little dusty about 
his boots and the lower part of his trousers. Law¬ 
rence greeted him politely, but was unable to re¬ 
strain a slight indication of surprise. It being more 
pleasant on the porch than in the house, Mr Croft 
invited his visitor to take a seat there, and the latter 
very kindly accepted the cigar which was offered 
him, although he would have preferred the pipe he 
had in his pocket. 

“ I thought it possible,” said Keswick, as soon as 
the two had fairly begun to smoke, “ that you might 
not yet have left here, and so came over in the hope 
of seeing you.” 

“Very kind,” said Lawrence. 

Keswick smiled. “ I must admit,” said he,” that 
it was not solely fof the pleasure of meeting you 
again that I came, although I am very glad to have 


The Late Mrs Null, 


85 


an opportunity for renewing our acquaintance. I 
came because I am quite convinced that Miss March 
wished very much to see you at the time arranged 
between you, and that she was annoyed and dis¬ 
composed by your failure to keep your engagement. 
Considering that you did not, and probably could 
not, know this, I deemed I would do you a service 
by informing you of the fact.” 

“ Did Miss March send you to tell me this?” ex¬ 
claimed Lawrence. 

“ Miss March knows nothing whatever of my com¬ 
ing,” was the answer. 

Then I must say, sip,” exclaimed Lawrence, 
“ that you have taken a great deal upon yourself.” 

Keswick leaned forward, and after knocking off 
the ashes of his cigar on the outside of the railing, 
he replied in a tone quite unmoved by the reproach 
of his companion: It may appear so on the face 
of it, but, in fact I am actuated only by a desire to 
serve Miss March, for whom I would do any service 
that I thought she desired. And, looking at it from 
your side, I am sure that I would be very much 
obliged to any one who would inform me, if I did 
not know it, that a lady greatly wished to see me.” 

“Why does she want to see me ?” asked Croft. 
“ What has she to say to me?” 

“ I do not know,” said Keswick. “ I only know 
that she was very much disappointed in not seeing 
you yesterday.” 

“ If that is the case, she might have written to 
me,” said Lawrence. 


86 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“ I do not think you quite understand the situa¬ 
tion,” observed his companion. “ Miss March is not 
a lady who would even intimate to a gentleman that 
she wished him to come to her when it was obvious 
that such was not his desire. But it seemed to me 
that if the gentleman should become aware of the 
lady’s wishes through the medium of a third party, 
the matter would arrange itself without difficulty.” 

“ By the gentleman going to her, I suppose,” 
remarked Croft. 

“ Of course,” said Keswick. 

“ There is no ‘ of course ’ about it,” was Lawrence’s 
rather quick reply. 

At that moment some letters were brought to 
him from a little post-office near by, to which he 
had ordered his mail to be forwarded. As the ad¬ 
dress on one of these letters caught his eye, the 
somewhat stern expression on his face gave place to 
a smile, and begging his visitor to excuse him, he, 
put his other letters into his pocket, and opened this 
one. It was very short, and was from Mr Candy’s 
cashier. It was written from Howlett’s, Virginia, 
a place unknown to him, and stated that the writer 
expected in a very short time to give him some 
accurate information in regard to Mr Keswick, and 
expressed the hope that he would allow the affair to 
remain entirely in her hands until she should write 
again. It was quite natural that, under the circum¬ 
stances, Lawrence should smile broadly as he folded 
up this note. The man in question was sitting be¬ 
side him, and, in a measure, was turning the tables 


The Late Mrs Null, 


87 


upon him. Lawrence had been very anxions to find 
out what sort of a man was Keswick, and the latter 
now seemed in the way of making some discoveries 
in the same line in regard to Lawrence. One thing 
he must certainly do ; he must write as soon as 
possible to his enterprising agent, and tell her that 
her services were no longer needed. She must have 
pushed the matter with a great deal of energy to 
have brought her down to Virginia, and he could 
not help hoping that her discretion was equal to her 
investigative capacity. 

When, after this little interruption, Lawrence 
again addressed Junius Keswick his manner was so 
much more affable that the other could not fail but 
notice it. 

Mr Keswick,” he said, “ as our conversation 
seems to be based upon personalities, perhaps you 
will excuse me if I ask you if I am mistaken in be¬ 
lieving that you were once engaged to be married to 
Miss March ? ” 

“You are entirely correct,” said Junius. “ I was 
engaged to her, and I hope to be engaged to her 
again.” ^ 

“ Indeed ! ” exclaimed Croft, turning in his chair 
with a start. 

“Yes,” continued Keswick, “our engagement 
was dissolved in consequence of a certain famih/ 
complication, and as I said before, I hope in time to 
be able to renew it.” 

Lawrence threw away his cigar, and sat for a few 
moments in thought. The engagement, then, did 


88 


The Late Mrs Null, 


not exist. Roberta was free. Recollections came 
to him of his own intercourse with her during the 
past summer, and his heart gave a bound. Mr 
Keswick,” said he, “ upon consideration of the mat¬ 
ter I think I will call upon Miss March this morn¬ 
ing.” 

If Keswick had expressed himself entirely satis¬ 
fied with this decision he would have done-injustice 
to his feelings. The service he had taken upon 
himself to perform for Miss March he had consid¬ 
ered a duty, but if his mission had failed he would 
have been better pleased than with its success. He 
made, however, a courteous reply to Croft’s remark, 
and rose to depart. But this the other would not 
allow. 

“You told me,” said Croft, “that you walked 
over here; but it is much warmer now, and you 
must not think of such a thing as walking back. 
The man here has a horse and buggy. 1 will get 
him to harness up, and I will drive you over to 
Midbranch.” 

As there was no good reason why he should de¬ 
cline this offer, Junius accepted it, and in half an 
hour the two were on their way. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Old Mr Brandon of Midbranch was not in a very 
happy frame of mind, and he had good reasons for 
dissatisfaction. He was an ardent supporter of a 
marriage between his niece and Junius Keswick ; and 
when the engagement had been broken off he had 
considered that both these young people had acted 
in a manner very foolish and contrary to their best 
interests. There was no opposition to the match 
except from old Mrs Keswick, who was the aunt of 
Junius, but who considered herself as occupying the 
position of a mother. Junius was the son of a 
sister who had also married into the Keswick family, 
and his parents having died while he was a boy, his 
aunt had taken him under her charge, and her house 
had then became his home ; although of late years 
some of his absences had been long ones. Mrs Kes¬ 
wick had no personal objections to Roberta, never 
having seen that lady, and knowing little of her ; but 
an alliance between her Junius and any member of 
that branch of the Brandons, “ which,” to use the old 
lady’s own words, “ had for four generations cheated, 
stripped, and scornfully used my people, scattering 
their atoms over the face of three counties,” was 
monstrous. Nothing could make her consent to 
such an enormity, and she had informed Junius that 


90 


The Late 'Mrs NtUL 


if he married that March girl three of them should 
live together—himself, his wife, and her undying 
curse. In order that Miss March might not fail to 
hear of this post-connubial arrangement, she had 
been informed of it by letter. Of course this liad 
broken off the engagement, for Roberta would not 
live under a curse, nor would she tear a man from 
the only near relative he had in the world. Keswick 
himself, like most men, would have been willing to 
have this tearing take place for the sake of uniting 
himself to such a charming creature as Roberta 
March. But the lady on one side was as inflexible 
as the lady, on the other, and the engagement was 
definitely and absolutely ended. 

Mr Brandon considered all this as stuff and non¬ 
sense. He could not deny that his branch of the 
Brandons had certainly got a good deal out of Mrs 
Keswick’s family. But here was a chance to make 
everything all right again, and he would be de¬ 
lighted to see Junius, a relative, although a distant 
one, come into possession of Midbranch. As for 
the old lady’s opposition, that should not be consid¬ 
ered at all, he thought. It was his opinion that her 
mind had been twisted by her bad temper, and noth¬ 
ing she could say could hurt .anybody. 

Of late Mr Brandon had been much encouraged 
by the fact that Junius had begun to resume his 
position as a friend of the family. This was all 
very well. If the young people, by occasional meet¬ 
ings, could keep alive their sentiments toward each 
other, the time would come when all opposition 


The Late Mrs Null. 


91 


would *cease, and the marriage would become an 
assured fact. He did not believe either of the 
young people would care enough for a post-mortem 
curse, if there should be one, to keep themselves 
separated from each other on its account for the rest 
of their lives. 

But the recent quite unexpected return of Law¬ 
rence Croft to Midbranch, combined with the evi¬ 
dent discomposure into which Roberta had been 
thrown by his failure to come the next day, had 
given the old gentleman some unpleasant ideas. 
His niece had mentioned that she expected Mr 
Croft that day, and although she said nothing in re¬ 
gard to her subsequent disappointment and vexa¬ 
tion, his mind was quite acute enough to perceive 
it. Exactly what it all meant he knew not, but it 
"augured danger. For the first time he began to 
look upon Mr Croft in the light of a suitor for 
Roberta. If a jealous feeling at finding another per¬ 
son on the ground was the cause of his not coming 
again, it showed that he was in earnest, and this, 
added to the evident disturbance of mind of both 
Roberta and Junius, was enough to give Mr Bran¬ 
don most serious fears that an obstacle to his cher¬ 
ished plan was arising. Roberta was fond of city 
life, of society, of travel, and if she had really made 
up her mind that her union with Junius was no 
longer to be tl\ought of, the advent of a man like 
Croft, who had been making her acquaintance all 
summer, and who had now returned to Virginia, no 
doubt for the sole purpose of seeing her again was, 


92 


The Late Mrs Null, 


to say the least, exceedingly ominous. One thing 
only could correct this deplorable state of affairs. 
The absurd bar to the union of Junius and Roberta 
should be removed, and they should be allowed to 
enter upon the happiness that was their right. 

Above all, the estate of Midbranch should not be 
suffered to go into the possession of an outsider, who 
might be good enough, but who was of no earthly 
moment or interest to the Brandons. He would go 
himself, and see the widow Keswick, and talk her 
out of her nonsense. It was a long time since he 
had met the old wild cat, as he termed her, and his 
recollection of the last interview was not pleasant, 
but he was not afraid of her, and he hoped that the 
common sense of what he would say would bring 
her to reason. 

Mr Brandon made up his mind during the night 
and when he came down to breakfast he was very 
glad to find that Junius had already gone out for a 
walk. The distance to the widow Keswick’s house 
was about fifteen miles, a pleasant day’s ride for the 
old gentleman, and as he did not expect to return 
until the next day, he felt obliged to inform Roberta 
of his destination, although, of course, he said noth¬ 
ing about the object of his visit. He told his niece 
that he was obliged to see the widow Keswick on 
business, to which remark she listened without 
reply. 

Soon after breakfast he mounted his good horse, 
Albemarle, and early in the afternoon he arrived at 
the widow Keswick’s gate. He had looked for a 


The Late Mrs Null, 


93 


stormy reception, in which the thunder-bolts of rage 
should burst around him, and he was surprised, 
therefore, to be received with the frigidity of the 
North Pole. 

“ I never expected,” she said, without any pre¬ 
vious courtesy, “ to see one of your people under 
my roof, and it is not very long ago since I would 
have gone away from it the moment any one of you 
came near it.” 

“ I am happy, madam,” said Mr Brandon, in his 
most courteous manner, “ that that day is past.” 

“ My staying won’t do you any good,” said the 
old lady, whose purple sun-bonnet seemed to heave 
with the uprisal of her hair, “ except, perhaps, to 
get you a better meal than the servants would have 
given you. But I want a lawyer, and I can’t afford 
to pay for one either, and when I saw you coming 
I just made up my mind to get something out of 
you, and if I do it, it’ll be the first red mark for my 
side of the family.” 

Mr Brandon assured her that nothing would give 
him more pleasure than to assist her in any way in 
his power. 

‘‘Very well, then,” said Mrs Keswick, “just sit 
down on that bench, and, when we have got 
through, your horse can be taken, and you can rest 
a while, though it seems a very curious thing that 
you should want to stop here to rest.” 

“Well, madam,” said Mr Brandon, seating himself 
as comfortably as possible on a wooden bench, “ I 
shall be happy to hear anything you have to say.” 


94 


The Late Mrs Null, 


The old lady did not sit down, but stood up in 
front of him, leaning, on her umbrella, with which 
faithful companion she had been about to set out 
on her walk. “When my son Junius came home 
a while ago-’’ she began. 

“ Do you still call him your gon ? ” interrupted 
Mr Brandon. 

“ Indeed I do! ” was the very prompt answer. 
“ That’s just what he is. And, as I was going to 
say, when he wrote me a short time ago that he was 
x:oming here, I believed, from his letter, that he had 
some scheme on hand in regard to your niece, and 
I made up my mind I wouldn’t stay in the house to 
hear anything more said on that subject. I had 
told him that I never wanted him to say another 
word about it; and it made my blood boil, sir, to 
think that he had come again to try to cozen me 
into the vile compact.” 

“ Madam ! ” exclaimed Mr Brandon. 

“ The next day,” continued Mrs Keswick, “ a lady 
arrived ; and as soon as I saw her drive into the gate 
I felt sure it was Roberta March, and that the two 
had hatched up a plot to come and work on my 
feelings, and so I wouldn’t come near the house.” 

“ Madam! ” exclaimed Mr Brandon, “ how could 
you dream such a thing of my niece? You don’t 
know her, madam.” 

“ No,” said the old lady, “ I don’t know her, but I 
knew she belonged to your family, and so I was not 
to be surprised at anything she did. But I found 
out I was mistaken. An old negro woman recog- 



The Late Mrs Null, 


95 


nized this young person as the daughter of my 
younger sister you know there were three of us. 
The child was born and raised here, but I have not 
seen and have scarcely heard of her since she was 
eight years old.” 

“That’s very extraordinary, madam,” said Mr 
Brandon. 

“No, it isn’t, when you consider the stubborn¬ 
ness, the obstinacy, and the wickedness of some 
people. My sister sickened when the child was 
about six years old, and her husband, Harvey Pey¬ 
ton-” 

“ I have frequently heard of him, madam,” said 
Mr Brandon. 

“And I wish I never had,” said she. “ Well, he 
was travelling most of the time, a thing my sister 
couldn’t do; but he came here then and stayed, off 
and on, till she died. And not long afterward, just 
because I told him that I intended to consider the 
child as my child, and that she should have the name 
of Keswick instead of his name, and should know 
me as her mother, and live with me always, he got 
angry and flared up, and actually took the child 
away. I gave it to him hot, I can tell you, before 
he left, and I never saw him again. He was so 
eaten up with rage because I wanted to take the 
little Annie for my own, that he filled her mind with 
such prejudices against me that when he died a year 
or two ago, she actually went to work to get her own 
living instead of applying to me for help. But now 
she has come down here, and I was really filled with 


96 


The Late Mrs Null, 


joy to have her again and carry out the plan on 
which my heart had long been set—that is to marry 
her to her cousin Junius, and let them have this farm 
when I am gone,-” 

At this Mr Brandon raised his eyebrows, and low¬ 
ered the corners of his mouth. 

“ But I suddenly discover,” continued the old 
lady, “ that the little wretch is married-^actually 
married.” 

At this Mr Brandon lowered his eyebrows and 
raised the corners of his mouth. “ Did her husband 
come with her ? ” he asked, pleasantly. And he 
gave a few long, free breaths as if he had just passed 
in safety a very dangerous and unsuspected rock. 

No, he didn’t,” replied the old lady. “ I don’t 
know where he is, and, from what I can make out, 
he is an utterly good-for-nothing fellow, allowing his 
wife to go where she pleases, and take care of her¬ 
self. Now this abominable marriage stands square 
in the way of the plan which again rose up in my 
mind the moment I heard that the girl was in my 
house. If Junius and she should marry, there 
would be no more dangers for me to look out for.” 

But the existence of a husband,” said Mr Bran¬ 
don blandly, “ puts an end to all thoughts of such 
an alliance.” 

“No it don’t,” said the old lady, bringing her um¬ 
brella down with force on the porch. “Not a bit 
of it. Such an outrageous marriage should not be 
suffered to exist. They should be divorced. He 
does nothing for her, and neglects and deserts her 


The Late Mrs Null, 


97 


absolutely. There’s every ground for a divorce, or 
enough grounds, at any rate. All that’s necessary is 
for a lawyer to take it up. I don’t know any law¬ 
yers, and when I saw you riding up from the road 
gate I said to myself: ‘ Here’s the very man I 
want,—and it’s full time I should get something 
from people who have taken nearly everything 
from me.’ ” 

Mr Brandon bowed. 

“ And now,” continued the old lady, “ I am going 
to put the case into your hands. The man is, evi¬ 
dently, a good-for-nothing scoundrel, and has prob¬ 
ably spent the little money that her miserable 
father left her. It’s a clear case of desertion, and 
there should, be no trouble at all in getting the 
divorce.” 

Mr Brandon looked down upon the floor of the 
porch, and smiled. This was a pretty case, he 
thought, to put into his hands. Here was a mar¬ 
riage which was the strongest protection in the 
promotion of his own plan, and he was asked to 
annul it. “ Very good,” thought Mr Brandon, “ very 
good.” And he smiled again. But he was an old- 
fashioned gentleman, and not used to refuse re¬ 
quests made to him by ladies. “ I will look into it, 
madam,” said he. “ I will look into it, and see what 
can be done.” 

“ Something must be done,” said the old lady ; 
“ and the right thing too. How long do you intend 
to stay here ? ” 

I thought of spending the night, madam, as my 
7 


98 


The Late Mrs Null. 


horso and myself are scarcely in condition to con¬ 
tinue our journey to-day.” 

“ Stay as long as you like,” said Mrs Keswick. 

I turn nobody from my doors, even if they belong 
to the Brandon family. I want you to talk to my 
niece, and get all you can out of her about this 
thing, and then you can go to work and blot out 
this contemptible marriage as soon as possible.” 

The first thing,” safd Mr Brandon, will be to 
talk to the lady.” 

This reply being satisfactory to Mrs Keswick, 
Uncle Isham was called to take the horse and at¬ 
tend to him, while the master was invited into the 
house. 

Mr Brandon first met Mrs Null at supper time, 
and her appearance very much pleased him. It is 
not likely,” he said to himself, “ that the man lives 
who would willingly give up such a charming 
young creature as this.” They were obliged to in¬ 
troduce themselves to each other, as the lady of the 
house had not yet appeared. After a while Letty, 
who was in attendance, advised them to sit down as 
“ de light bread an’ de batter-bread was gittin’ cole.” 

“ We could not think of such a thing as sitting at 
table before Mrs Keswick arrives,” said Mr Brandon. 

“Oh, dar’s no knowin’ when she’ll come,” said 
the blooming Letty. “ She may be h’yar by break- 
fus time, but dar ain’t nobuddy in dis yere worl’ kin 
tell. She’s down at de bahn now, blowin’ up Plez 
fur gwine to sleep when he was a shellin’ de cohnfiel’ 
peas. An’ when she’s got froo wid him she’s got a 


The Late Mrs Null. 


99 


bone to pick wid Uncle Isham ’bout de gyardin’. 
’Tain’t no use waitin’ fur ole miss. She nebber do 
come when de bell rings. She come when she git 
ready, an’ not afore.” 

Mr Brandon now felt quite sure that it was the 
intention of his hostess not to break bread with one 
of his family, and so he seated himself, Mrs Null 
taking the head of the table and pouring out the tea 
and coffee. 

“ It has been a long time, madam, since you were 
in this part of the country,” said the old gentleman, 
as he drew the smoking batter-bread toward him 
and began to cut it. 

“Yes,” said Mrs Null, “not since I was a little 
girl. I suppose you have heard, sir, that Aunt 
Keswick and my father were on very bad terms, and 
would not have anything to do with each other ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Mr Brandon, “ I have heard that.” 

“ But my father is not living now, and I am down 
here again.” 

“And your husband? He did not accompany 
you ? ” said Mr Brandon. 

“ No,” replied Mrs Null, very quickly. “ We were 
both very sorry that it was not possible for him to 
come with me.” 

Mr Brandon’s spirits began to rise. This did not 
look quite like desertion. “I have no doubt you 
have a very good husband. I am sure you deserve 
such a one,” he said with the air of a father, and the 
purpose of a lawyer. 

“Good!” exclaimed Mrs Null, her eyes sparkling. 

Lift 


lOO 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“ He couldn’t be better if he tried ! Will you have 
sweet milk, or buttermilk ? ” 

“Buttermilk, if you please,” said Mr Brandon. 
“Of course your aunt was delighted to have you 
with her again.” 

“ Oh,” said Mrs Null, with a laugh, “ she was not 
at home when I arrived, but when she returned 
nothing could be too good for me. Why, she had 
been here scarcely half an hour, and hadn’t taken off 
her sun-bonnet, before she told me I was to marry 
Junius and we two were to have this farm.” 

“ A very pleasant plan, truly,” said Mr Brandon. 

“ But then, you see,” continued the young girl, 
“ Mr Null stood dreadfully in the way of such an ar¬ 
rangement ; and when Aunt Keswick heard about 
him you can’t imagine what a change came over 
her.” 

“ Oh, yes I can; yes I can,” exclaimed Mr Bran¬ 
don—“ I can imagine it very well.” 

“ But she didn’t give up a bit,” said Mrs Null. 
“ I don’t think she ever does give up.” 

“You are right, there,” said Mr Brandon, “quite 
right. But what does she propose to do ? ” 

“ I don’t know, I’m sure ; but she said I had no 
right to marry without the consent of my surviving 
relatives, and that she was going to look into it. I 
can’t think what she means by that.” 

Mr Brandon made no immediate answer. He 
gave Mrs Null some damson preserves, and he 
took some himself, and then he helped himself to a 
great hot roll, from a plate that Letty had just 


The Late Mrs NttlL 


lOI 


brought in, and carefully opening it he buttered it 
on the inside, and covered one-half of it with the 
damson preserves. This he began slowly to eat, 
drinking at times from the foaming glass of butter¬ 
milk at the side of his plate, from which the coffee- 
cup had been removed. When he had finished 
the half roll he again spoke. “ I think, my dear 
young lady, that your aunt is desirous of having 
your marriage set aside.” 

“ How can she do that ? ” exclaimed the girl, her 
face flushing. “ Has she been talking to you about 
it ? ” 

“ I cannot deny that she has spoken to me on the 
subject,” he answered, “ I being a lawyer. But I 
will say to you, in strict confidence, please, that if 
you and your husband are sincerely attached to each 
other there is nothing on earth she can do to sepa¬ 
rate you.” 

‘‘Attached!” exclaimed Mrs Null. “It would 
be impossible for us to be more attached than we 
are. We never have had the slightest difference, 
even of opinion, since our wedding day. Why, I 
believe that we are more like one person than any 
married couple in the world.” 

“ I am very glad to hear it,” said Mr Brandon, 
finishing his buttermilk—“ very glad indeed. And, 
feeling as you do, I am certain that nothing your 
aunt can say will make any impression on you in re¬ 
gard to seeking a divorce.” 

“I should think not! ” said Mrs Null, sitting up 
very straight. “ Divorce indeed ! ” 



102 


The Late Mrs Null, 


“ I fully uphold you in the stand you have taken,” 
said Mr Brandon. “ But I beg you will not men¬ 
tion this conversation- to your aunt. It would only 
annoy her. Is your cousin expected here shortly? ” 

I believe so,” she said. “To be sure, my aunt 
left the house the last time he came, but she has . 
his address, and has written for him. I think she 
wants us to get acquainted as soon as possible, so 
that no time will be lost in marrying us after poor 
Mr Null is disposed of.” 

“Very good, very good,” said Mr Brandon with a 
laugh. “ And now, my dear young friend, I want 
to give you a piece of advice. Stay here as long as 
you can. Your aunt will soon perceive the absurd¬ 
ity of her ideas in regard to your husband, and will 
cease to annoy you. Make a friend of your cousin 
Junius, whom I know and respect highly; and he 
certainly will be of advantage to you. Above all 
things, endeavor to thoroughly reconcile him and 
Mrs Keswick, so that she will cease to oppose his 
wishes, and to interfere with his future fortune. If 
you can bring back good feeling between these two, 
you will be the angel of the family.” 

“Thank you,” said Mrs. Null, as they rose from 
the table. 

The next morning, after Mr Brandon and Mrs 
Null had breakfasted together, the mistress of the 
house, having apparently finished the performance 
of the duties which had kept her from the breakfast- 
table, had some conversation with her visitor. In 
this he repeated very little of what he had said to the 


The Late Mrs Null. 


103 


younger lady the night before, but he assured Mrs 
Keswick that he had discovered that it would be a 
very delicate thing to propose to her niece a divorce 
from her husband, a thing to which she was not at 
all inclined, as he had found. 

“Of course not! of course not!” exclaimed Mrs 
Keswick. “ She can’t be expected to see what a 
wretched plight she has got herself into by marry¬ 
ing this straggler from nobody knows where.” 

“ But, madam,” said Mr Brandon, “ if you worry 
her about it, she will leave you, and then all will be 
at an end. Now, let me advise you as your lawyer. 
Keep her here as long as you. can. Do everything 
possible to foster friendship and good feeling be¬ 
tween her and Junius; and to do this you must 
forget as far as possible all that has gone by, and be 
friendly with both of them yourself.” 

“ Humph ! ” said the widow Keswick. “ I didn’t 
ask you for advice of that sort.” 

“ It is all a part of the successful working of the 
case, madam,” said Mr Brandon. “A thorough 
good feeling must be established before anything 
else can be done.” 

“ I suppose so,” said the old lady. “ She must 
learn to like us before she begins to hate him. And 
how about your niece ? Are you going to send her 
down here to help on in the good feeling ? ” 

“ I have not brought my niece into this affair,” 
replied Mr Brandon, with dignity. 

“ Well, then, see that you don’t,” was the widow 
Keswick’s reply. And the interview terminated. 


104 


The Late Mrs Null. 


When Mr Brandon rode away on his good horse 
Albemarle, he looked at the post of the road gate 
from which he was lifting the latch by means of the 
long wooden handle arranged for the convenience of 
riders, and said to himself: “John Keswick was a 
good man, but I don’t wonder he came out here and 
shot himself. It is a great pity though that it wasn’t 
his wife* who did it, instead of him. That would 
have been a blessing to all of us. But,” he added, 
contemplatively, as he closed the gate, “ the people 
in this world who ought to blow out their brains, 
never do.” 

Soon after he had gone, Mrs Null went up Pine 
Top Hill, and sat down on the rock to have a 
“think.” “Now, then, Freddy,” she said, “every¬ 
thing depends on you. If you don’t stand by me 
I am lost—that is to say, I must go away from 
here before Junius comes; and you know I don’t 
want to do that. I want to see him on my account, 
and on his account too ; but I don’t want him cram¬ 
med down my throat for a husband the moment he 
arrives, and that is just what will happen if you 
don’t do your duty, Mr Null. Even if it wasn’t for 
you, I don’t want to look at him from the husband 
point of view, because, of course, he is a very differ¬ 
ent person from what he used to be, and is a total 
stranger to me. 

“ It is actually more than twelve years since I 
have seen him, and besides that, he is just as good 
as engaged to that niece of Mr. Brandon’s, who is a 
horrible mixture of a she-wolf and a female mule, if 


The Late Mrs NulL 


105 


I am to believe Aunt Keswick, but I expect she is, 
truly, a very nice girl. Though, to be sure, she can’t 
have much spirit if she consented to break off her 
marriage just on account of the back-handed bene¬ 
diction which Aunt Keswick told me she offered 
her as a wedding gift. If I had wanted to marry a 
man I would have let the old lady curse the heels off 
her boots before I would have paid any attention to 
her. Cursing don’t hurt anybody but the curser. 

‘‘What I want of Junius is to make a friend of him, 
if he turns out to be the right kind of a person, and 
to tell him about this Mr Croft who is so anxious to 
find him. The only person I have met yet who 
seems like an ordinary Christian is old Mr Brandon, 
and he’s a sly one. I’m afraid. Aunt Keswick thinks 
he stopped here on his way somewhere, but I don’t 
believe a word of it. I believe he came for reasons 
of his own, and went right straight back again. You 
are almost as much to him, Freddy, as you are to 
me. It would have made you laugh if you could 
have seen how his face lighted up when he heard we 
were happy together; and that I would not listen to 
a divorce. And yet I am sure he has promised 
Aunt Keswick to see what he can do about getting 
one. He wants me to stay here and make friends 
of Aunt Keswick and Junius, but he wouldn’t like 
that if it were not for you, Mr Null. You make 
everything safe for him. 

“And now, Freddy, I tell you again, that all de¬ 
pends upon you. If I’m to stay here—and I want to 
do that, for a time any way, for although Aunt Kes- 


io6 The Late Mrs Null. 

wick is so awfully queer, she’s my own aunt, and 
that’s more than I can say for anybody else in the 
world—you must stiffen up, and stand by me. It 
won’t do to give way for a minute. If necessary 
you must take tonics, and have a steel rod down 
your back, if you can’t keep yourself erect without 
it. You must have your legs padded, and your 
chest thrown out; and you must stand up very 
strong and sturdy, Freddy, and not let them push 
you an inch this way or that. And now that we 
have made up our minds on this subject, we’ll go 
down, for it’s getting a little cool on the top of this 
hill.” 




CHAPTER IX. 


On the morning of her uncle’s departure from 
Midbranch, Roberta came out on the porch, and 
took her seat in a large wooden arm-chair, putting 
down her key basket on the floor beside her. The 
day was bright and sunny, and the shadows of two 
or three turkey buzzards, who were circling in the 
air, moved over the field in front of the house. In 
this field also moved, not so fast, nor so gracefully 
as the shadows, two ploughs, one near by, and the 
other at quite a distance. The woods which shut 
out a great part of the horizon showed many a bit 
of color, but th| scene, although bright enough in 
some of its tones, was not a cheering one to Ro¬ 
berta ; and she needed cheering. 

Had it not been for the delay of her father in mak¬ 
ing his winter visit to New York, she would now be in 
that city, but if things had gone on as she expected 
they would, she would have been perfectly satisfied 
to remain several weeks longer at Midbranch. Jun¬ 
ius Keswick, who had not visited the house for a 
long time, had come to them again; and, now that 
the subject of love and marriage had been set aside, 
it was charming to have him there as a friend. They 
not only walked in the woods, but they took long 
tides over the country, Mr Brandon having waived 


io8 


The Late Mrs Null, 


his objections in regard to his niece riding about 
with gentlemen. She had even been pleased with 
the unexpected return of Lawrence Croft, for, for 
reasons of her own, she wished very much to have a 
talk with him. But he had not fulfilled his promise 
to her, and had gone away in a very unsatisfactory 
manner. 

This morning she felt a little lonely, too, for 
Junius had left the place before breakfast, and she 
did not know where he had gone ; and her uncle had 
actually ridden away to see that horrible widow 
Keswick, merely stating that his errand was a busi¬ 
ness one, and that he would be back the next day. 
Roberta knew that there had been a great deal of 
business, particularly that^f an unpleasant kind, be¬ 
tween the two families, but she did not believe that 
there was any ordinary affair concerning dollars and 
cents which would require the pres|nce of her uncle 
at the house of his old enemy. She was very much 
afraid that he had gone there to try to smooth 
up matters in regard to Junius and herself. The 
thought of this made her indignant. She did not 
know what her uncle would say, and she did not 
want him to say anything. He could not make .the 
horrible old creature change her mind in regard to 
the marriage, and if this was not done, there was 
no use discussing the matter at all, and she did not 
wish people to think she was anxious for the match. 

It was plain, however, that her uncle’s desire 
for it had experienced a strong revival; and the un¬ 
expected return of Lawrence Croft had probably had 


The Late Mrs Null, 


109 


a great effect on him. He had not objected to the 
visits of that gentleman during the summer, but he 
had never shown any strong liking for him, and Ro¬ 
berta said to herself that she could not see, for her 
part, why this should be; Mr Croft was a thorough 
gentleman, an exceedingly well educated and agree¬ 
able man. 

As to Junius, she was afraid that he had not the 
spirit which she used to think he possessed. There 
was something about him she could not understand. 
In former days, when Junius was in New York, 
she compared him with the young men there, very 
much to his advantage, but* now Mr Croft seemed 
to throw him somewhat in the background. When 
Croft wanted to do anything he did it; even his 
failure to come to her when he said he would do so 
• showed strength of will. If Junius had promised to 
come he would^'have come, even if he had not 
wanted to do so, and there would have been some¬ 
thing weak about that. 

While she thus sat thinking, and gazing over the 
landscape, she saw afar off, on a portion of the road 
which ran along-side the wpods, a vehicle slowly 
making its way to the house. Roberta had large 
and beautiful eyes, but they were not of the kind 
which would enable her to discover at so great a 
distance what sort of vehicle \his was, and who was 
in it. As the road led nowhere but to Midbranch 
she was naturally desirous to know who was coming. 
She stepped into the hall, and, taking a small bell, 
rang it vigorously, and in a moment her youthful 


no 


The Late Mrs Null, 


handmaiden, Peggy, appeared upon the scene. 
Peggy’s habit of projecting her eyes into the far 
away could often be turned to practical account 
for her vision was, in a measure, telescopic. 

“What is that coming here along the road?” 
asked Miss Roberta, stepping upon the porch, and 
poin'ling out the distant vehicle. 

Peggy stood up straight, let her arms hang close 
to her sides, and looked steadfastly forth. “ Wot’s 
cornin’. Miss Rob,” said she, “ is the buggy ’longin’ 
to Mister Michaels, at de Springs, an’ his ole'mud- 
colored hoss is haulin’ it. Dem dat’s in it is Mahs’ 
Junius an’ Mister Crof’.*' 

“ Are you sure of that ? ” exclaimed Miss Roberta 
in astonishment. “ Look again.” 

“ Yaas’m,” replied Peggy. “ I’s sartin shuh. But 
dey jes gwine bellin’ de trees now.” 

The road was not again visible for some distance, 
but when the buggy reappeared Peggy gave a start, 
and exclaimed : “ Bar’s on’y one pusson in it now. 
Miss Rob. ” 

“ Which is it ? ” exclaimed her mistress quickly, 
shading her eyes, and endeavoring to see for her¬ 
self. 

“It’s Mister Crof,” said Peggy. “ Mahs’ Junius 
mus’ done gone back.” 

“ It is too bad!” exclaimed Miss Roberta. “I 
will not see him. “Peggy,” she said, snatching up 
the key basket, and stepping toward the hall door, 
“ when that gentleman, Mr Croft, comes, you must 
tell him that I am up-stairs lying down, that I am 


The Late Mrs NulL 


111 


not well, and cannot see him, and that your Master 
Robert is not at home.” 

“ Ef Mahs’ Junius come, does you want me to tell 
him de same thing? ” 

“ But you said he was not in the buggy,” said ‘her 
mistress. 

No’m,” answered Peggy, but p’raps he done 
cut acrost de plough fiel’, an’ git h’yar fus’.” 

If he comes first,” said Miss Roberta, a shade of 
severity pervading her handsome features, ‘‘ I want 
to see him.” And with this, she went up-stairs. 

Peggy, with her shoes on, possessed the stolid 
steadiness of a wooden grenadier, for the heaviness 
of the massive boots seemed to permeate her whole 
being, and communicated what might be considered 
a slow and heavy footfall to her intellect. Peggy, 
without shoes, was a panther on two legs, and her 
mind, like her body, was capable of enormous leaps. 
Slipping off her heavy brogans, she made a single 
bound, and stood upon the railing of the porch, and, 
throwing her arm around a post, gazed forth from 
this point of vantage. 

“ Bress my eberlastin’ soul! ” she exclaimed, “ if 
Mister Crof’ ain’t got ter de road gate, and is a 
waitin’ dar fur somebody to come open it! Does 
he think anybody gwine to see him all de way from 
de house, and come open de gate? . Reckin’ he don’ 
know dat ole mud-color hoss. He mought git out 
and let down de whole fence, an’ dat ole hoss ud 
nebber move. Bress my soul moh’ p’intedly! ef 
Mahs’ Junius ain’t cornin’ ’long ter open de gate! ” 


I 12 


The Late Mrs Null, 


For a few moments Peggy stood and stared, her 
mind not capable of grasping this astounding situa¬ 
tion. “No, he ain’t nudder!” she presently ex¬ 
claimed with an air of relief. Mahs’ Junius done 
tole him dat ef he want dat gate open he better git 
down and open it hese’f. Dat’s right Mahs’ Junius! 
Stick up to dat! Dar go Mahs’ Junius into de 
woods an’ Mister Crof’ he git out, an’ go after him. 
Dey’s gwine to fight, sartin, shuh! Lordee! wot 
fur dey ’low dem bushe§ ter grow ’long de fence to 
keep folks from seein’ wot’s gwine on ! ” 

There was nothing now to be seen from the rail¬ 
ing, and Peggy jumped down on the porch. Her ac¬ 
tivity seemed to pervade her being. She ran down 
the front steps, crossed the lawn, and mounted the 
stile. Here she could catch sight of the two men 
who seemed to be disputing. This was too much 
for Peggy. If there was to be a fight she wanted to 
see it; and, apart from her curiosity, she had a loyal 
interest in the event. Down the steps, and along 
the road she went at the top of her speed, and soon 
reached the gate. Her arrival was not noticed by 
any one except the mud-colored horse, who gazed 
at her inquiringly; and looking through the bars, 
without opening the gate, Peggy 1 ad a good view of 
the gentlemen. 

The situation was a more simple one than Peggy 
had imagined. The road, for the last half mile, 
had been an up-hill one, and Keswick, as much 
to stretch his own legs as to save those of the horse, 
had alighted to walk, while Lawrence, as in duty 


The Late Mrs Null, 


113 

bound, had waited for him at the gate. Here a lit¬ 
tle argument had arisen. Keswick, who did not 
wish to be at the house, or indeed about the place 
while Roberta was having her conference with Mr 
Croft, had said that he had concluded not to go up 
to the house at present, but would take a walk 
through the woods instead. Lawrence, who thought 
he divined his reason, felt an honorable indisposition 
to accept this advantage at the hands of a man who 
was, most indisputably, his rival. If they went 
together it would not appear as if he had waited 
for Keswick’s absence to return; and there would 
still be no reason why he should not have his private 
walk and talk with Miss March. 

At all events, it seemed to him unfair to leave 
Keswick at the gate while he went up to the house 
by himself, and the notion of it did not please him 
at all. Keswick, however, was very resolute in his 
opposition. He objected even to seeing Roberta 
and Croft together. He thought, besides, if he and 
Croft came to the house at the same time it would 
appear very much as if he, Junius, had brought the 
other, and this was an appearance he wished very 
much to avoid. He had walked away, and Law¬ 
rence had jumped from the buggy to continue the 
friendly argument which was not finished when 
Peggy arrived. Almost immediately after this 
event Keswick positively insisted that he would go 
for a walk, and Lawrence reluctantly turned toward 
the vehicle. 

Peggy’s mind was filled with horror. Master Jun- 
8 


The Late Mrs Null, 


114 

ius had been frightened away, and the other man 
was coming up to the house ! She could not stand 
there and allow such a catastrophe. Jerking open 
the gate, she rushed into the road and confronted 
Keswick. 

“ Mahs’ Junius,” she exclaimed, “ Miss Rob's orful 
sick wid her back an’ her j’ints, an’ she say she can’t 
see no kump’ny folks, an’ Mahs’ Robert he done gone 
away to see ole IMiss Keswick. I jes run down 
h’yar to tell you to hurry up.” 

. Keswick started. “ Where did you say your Mas¬ 
ter Robert had gone ? ” 

“To ole Miss Keswick’s. He went dis mawnin’.” 

Junius turned slightly pale, and addressing Mr 
Croft, said: “ Something very strange must have 
happened here! Miss March is ill, and Mr. Brandon 
has gone to a place to which I think nothing but 
a matter of the utmost importance could take 
him.” 

“ In that case,” said Mr Croft, “ it will be highly 
improper for me to go to the house just.now. I am 
very glad that I heard the news before I got there. 
I will return to the Springs, and will call to-morrow 
and inquire after Miss March’s health. Do not let 
me detain you as your presence is evidently much 
needed at the house.” 

“Thank you,” said Keswick, hurriedly shaking 
hands with him. “ I am afraid something very un¬ 
expected has happened, and so beg you will excuse 
me. Good-morning.” And passing through the 
gateway, he rapidly strode toward the house, while 


The Late Mrs Null. 


115 

Lawrence prepared to turn his horse’s head toward 
the Springs. 

But, although Junius Keswick walked rapidly, 
Peggy, who had started first for the house, kept well 
in advance of him. Away she went, skipping, run¬ 
ning, dancing. Once she stopped and turned, and 
saw that the buggy, with the mud-colored horse, 
was being driven away, and that Master Junius was 
coming along the road to the house. Then she 
started off, and ran steadily, the rapid show of the 
light-colored soles of her feet behind her suggestive 
of a steamer’s wake. Up the broad stile she went, 
two steps at a time, and down the other side in a 
couple of jumps; a dozen skips took her across the 
lawn; and she bounded up to the porch as if each 
wooden step had been a springing board. She 
rushed up-stairs, and stood at the open door of Miss 
Roberta’s room where that lady reclined upon a 
lounge. 

Hi’, Miss Rob! ” she exclaimed, involuntarily 
snapping her fingers as she spoke. Mahs’ Junius 
cornin’, all by hese’f, an’ I done sent de udder gem- 
man clean off, kitin’! 


CHAPTER X. 


Junius Keswick was received by Miss Roberta 
in the parlor. Her face was colder and sterner than 
he had ever seen it before, and his countenance was 
very much troubled. Each wished to speak first, 
and ask questions, but the lady went immediately 
to the front. 

“ How did it happen that you and Mr Croft were 
coming here together ? Where had you been ? ” 
We came from the Green Sulphur Springs, 
where I called on him this morning.” 

“ I thought he was obliged to return immediately 
to the North. What made him change his mind? ” 
“ Perhaps it will be better not to discuss that 
now,” said Junius. 

“ I wish to discuss it,” was the reply. “ What 
induced him not to go ? ” 

“ I did,” answered Junius,” looking steadfastly at 
her. “ Did you not wish to see him ? ” 

For a moment Miss Roberta did not answer, but 
her face grew pale, and she threw herself back in the 
chair in which she was sitting. “ Never in my life,” 
she said, “ have I been subjected to such mortifica¬ 
tion ! Of course I wished him to come, but to 
come of his own accord, and not at my bidding. 
How do you suppose I v/ould have felt if he had 


The Late Mrs Null, 


117 


presented himself, and asked me what I wished to 
say to him ? It is an insult you have offered me.” 

‘‘ It is not an insult,” said Keswick quietly. “ It 
was a service of—of affection. I saw that you were 
annoyed and troubled by Mr. Croft’s failure to keep 
his engagement, and what I did was simply-” 

“ Stop ! ” said Roberta peremptorily. “ I do not 
wish to talk of it any more.” 

Junius stood before her a moment in silence, and 
then he said: Will you tell me if my Aunt Kes¬ 
wick is ill or dead, and why did Mr Brandon eo 
there?” 

“ She is neither; ” answered Roberta, “ and he 
went there on business.” And with this she arose 
and left the room. 

Peggy, who had been in the hall, now made a bolt 
down the back stairs into the basement regions, 
where was situated the kitchen. In this spacious 
apartment she found Aunt Judy, the cook, sitting 
before a large wood fire, and holding in her hand a 
long iron ladle. There was nothing near her which 
she could dip or stir with a ladle, and it was 
probably retained during her period of leisure as a 
symbol of her position and authority. 

Peggy squatted on her heels, close to Aunt Judy’s 
side, and thus addressed her : Aun’ Judy, ef I tell 
you -sumfin’, soul an’ honor, hope o’ glory, you’ll 
neber tell ? ” 

“ Hope o’ glory, neber! ” said Aunt Judy, turning 
a look of interest on the girl. 

“Well, den, look h’yar. You know Miss Rob she 



ii8 


The Late Mrs Null. 


got two beaux; one is Mahs’ Junius, an’ de udder 
is de gemman wid de speckle trousers from de 
Norf.” 

“Yes, I know dat,” said Aunt Judy. “ Has dey 
fit?” 

“Not yit, but dey wos gwine to,” said Peggy, 
“but I seed ’em, an’ I tore down de road to de gate 
whar tiey wos gittin ready to fight, an’ I jes’ let dat 
dar Mister Crof’ know wot low-down white trash 
Miss Rob think he wos, an’ den he said ef dat war 
so ’twant no use fur to come in, an’ he turn’ roun’ 
de buggy, an’ cl’ar’d out. Den Mahs’ Junius he 
come to de house, an’ dar Miss Rob in de parlor 
waitin’ fur him. I stood jes’ outside de doh’, so’s to 
be out de way, but Mahs’ Junius he kinder back 
agin de doh’, an’ shet it. But I clap’d my year ter 
de crack, an’ I hear eberything dey said.” 

“Wot dey say?” asked Aunt Judy, her mouth 
open, her eyes dilated, and the long ladle trembling 
in her hand. 

Mahs’ Junius he say to Miss Rob that he lub 
her better’n his own skin, or de clouds in de sky, or 
de flowers in de fiel’ wot perish, an’ dat de udder man 
he done cut an’ run, an’ would she be Miss Junius 
all de res’ ob der libes foreber an’ eber, amen?” 

“ Dat wos pow’ful movin’! ” ejaculated Aunt 
Judy. “ An’ wot did Miss Rob say ? ” 

“ Miss Rob she say, ‘ I ’cept your kind offer, sah, 
wid pleasure.’ An’ den I hearn ’em cornin’, an’ I 
cut down h’yar.” 

“Glory! Hallelujah!” exclaimed Aunt Judy, 


The Late Mrs Null. 119 

bringing her ladle down upon the brick hearth. 
“Now is I ready to die when my time comes, fur 
Mahs’ Junius ’ll have dis farm, an’ de house, an’ de 
cabins, an’ dey won’t go to no strahnger from de 
Norf.” 

“Amen,” said Peggy. “An’ Aun’ Judy, dat ar 
piece ob pie ain’t no ’count to nobuddy.” 

“You kin hab it, chile,” said Aunt Judy, rising, 
and taking from a shelf a large piece of cold apple 
pie, “ an’ bressed be de foots ob dem wot fotch good 
tidin’s.” 

Junius Keswick did not see Miss Roberta again 
that day, and early in the morning he borrowed one 
of the Midbranch horses, and rode away. He did 
not wish to be at the house when Mr Croft should 
come; and, besides, he was very anxious and dis¬ 
turbed in regard to matters at the Keswick farm. 
Of all places in the world why should Mr Brandon 
go there ? 

It was not a very pleasant ride that Junius Kes¬ 
wick took that morning. He had anxieties in regard 
to what he would meet with at his aunt’s house, 
and he had even greater anxieties as to what he 
was leaving behind him at Midbranch. It was quite 
evident that Roberta was angry with him, and this 
was enough to sadden the soul of a man who loved 
her as he loved her, who would have married her at 
any moment, in spite of all opposition, all threats, 
all curses. He was not in the habit of looking at 
himself after the manner of Lawrence Croft, but on 
this occasion he could not help a little self-survey. 


120 


The Late Mrs Null. 


Was it a purely disinterested motive he asked him. 
self, that took him over to the Springs to bring 
back Lawrence Croft ? Did he not believe in his 
soul that Roberta would never have spoken so 
freely to him in regard to what the gentleman from 
the North would probably say to her if she had not 
intended to decline that gentleman’s offer ? And 
was there not a wish in his heart that this matter 
might be definitely and satisfactorily settled before 
Roberta and Mr Croft went to New York for the 
winter? He could not deny that this issue to the 
affair had been in his mind; and yet he felt that he 
could conscientiously assure himself that if he had 
thought things would turn out otherwise, he still 
would have endeavored to make the man perform the 
duty expected of him by Roberta, in whose service 
Junius always felt himself to be. But, apparently, 
he had not benefited himself or anybody else, ex¬ 
cept, perhaps, Croft, by this service which he had 
performed. 

It was late in the forenoon when Junius met Mr 
Brandon returning to Midbranch. In answer to 
his expressions of surprise, Mr Brandon, who ap. 
peared in an exceptionally good humor, informed 
Junius of his reasons for the visit to the widow 
Keswick, and what he had found when he arrived 
there. 

“Your little cousin,” said he, “ is a most charming 
young creature, and on interested motives I should 
oppose your going to your aunt’s house, were it not 
for the fact that she is married, and, therefore, of no 


The Late Mrs Null, 


I2I 


danger to you. I was very glad to find her there. 
Her influence over your aunt will, I think, be highly 
advantageous, and the first fruit of it is that the old 
lady will now welcome you with open arms. Would 
you believe it! she has already announced that she 
wishes to make a match between you and this little 
cousin; and in order to do so, has actually engaged 
me to endeavor to bring about a divorce between 
the young lady and her absent husband. The 
widow Keswick has as many cranks and crotchets in 
her head as there are seeds in a tobacco pod; but 
this is the queerest and the wildest of them all. 
The couple seem very much attached to each other, 
and nothing can be said against the husband except 
that he did not accompany his wife on her visit to 
her relatives; and if he knew anything about the 
old lady I don’t blame him a bit. Now your course, 
my dear boy, is perfectly plain. Let your aunt talk 
as much as she pleases about this divorce, and youi 
union with the little Annie. It won’t hurt anybody, 
and she must talk herself out in time. In the mean 
time take advantage of the present circumstances to 
mollify and tone down, so to speak, the good old 
lady. Make her understand that we are all her 
friends, and that there is no one in the connection 
who would wish to do her the slightest harm. This 
would be our Christian duty at any time, but it is 
more particularly our duty now. I would like you 
to bring your cousin over to see us before Roberta 
goes away. I invited her to come, and told her that 
my niece would first call upon her were it not for 


122 


The Late Mrs Null. 


the peculiar circumstances. But if the families can 
be in a measure brought together—and I shall make 
it a point to ride over there occasionally—if your 
aunt can be made to understand the kindly feelings 
we really have toward her, and can be induced to set 
aside, even in a slight degree, the violent prejudice 
she now holds against us, all may yet turn out well. 
Now go, my boy, and may the best of success go 
with you. Don’t trouble yourself about sending 
back the horse. Keep him as long as you want 
him.” 

Mr Brandon rode on, leaving Junius to pursue 
his way. “ It is very pleasant,” thought the young 
man, who had said scarcely a word during the inter¬ 
view, “to hear Mr Brandon talk about all turning 
out well, but when he gets home he may discover 
that there is something to be done at Midbranch as 
well as on the Keswick place.” 

Mr Brandon’s reflections were very different from 
those of Junius. It appeared to him that a recon¬ 
ciliation between the two families, even though it 
should be a partial one, was reasonably to be ex¬ 
pected. That newly arrived cousin was an angel. 
She was bound to do good. A marriage between 
his niece and Junius Keswick was the great object of 
the old gentleman’s heart, and he longed to see the 
former engagement between them re-established be¬ 
fore Roberta went to New York, where her beauty 
and attractiveness would expose his cherished plan 
to many dangers. 

The road he was on led directly north, and it was 



The Late Mrs Null, 


123 


joined about a quarter of a mile above by the road 
which ran through the woods to the Green Sulphur 
Springs. On this road, at a point nearly opposite 
to him, he could see, through the foliage, a horse¬ 
man riding toward the point of junction. Some¬ 
thing about this person attracted his attention, and 
Mr Brandon took out a pair of eye-glasses and put 
them on. As soon as he had obtained another good 
view of the horseman he recognized him as Mr 
Croft. The old gentleman took off his glasses and 
returned them to his vest pocket, and his face began 
to flush. In his early acquaintance with Mr Croft 
he had not objected to him, because he wished his 
niece to have company, and he had a firm belief in 
the enduring quality of her affection for Junius. 
But, latterly, his ideas in regard to the New York 
gentleman had changed. He had thought him some¬ 
what too assiduous, and when he had unexpectedly 
returned from the North, Mr Brandon had not been 
at all pleased, although he had been careful not to 
show his displeasure. This condition of things 
made him feel uneasy, and had prompted his visit to 
the widow Keswick. And now that everything 
looked so fair and promising, here was that man, 
whom he had supposed to have left this part of the 
country, riding toward his house. 

Mr Brandon was an easy-going man, but he had a 
backbone which could be greatly stiffened on occa¬ 
sion. He sat up very straight on his horse, and 
urged the animal to a better pace, so that he arrived 
first at the point where the roads met. Here he 


124 


The Late Mrs NulL 


awaited Mr Croft, who soon rode up. The old gen¬ 
tleman’s greeting was very courteous. 

'‘You are on the way to my house, I presume,” 
he said. 

Mr Croft assured him that he was, and hoped that 
Miss March was quite well. 

‘‘ I have been from home for a little while,” said 
Mr Brandon, “ but I believe my niece enjoys her 
usual health. I have had a long ride this morning,” 
he continued, “and feel a little tired. Would it in¬ 
convenience you, sir, if we should dismount and sit 
for a time on yonder log by the roadside ? It would 
rest me, and I would like to have a little talk with 
you.” 

Lawrence wondered very much that the old gen¬ 
tleman should want to rest when he was not a mile 
from his own house, but of course he consented to 
the proposed plan, and imitated Mr Brandon by 
riding under a large tree, and fastening his bridle to 
a low-hanging bough. The two gentlemen seated 
themselves on the log, and Mr Brandon, without 
preface, began his remarks. 

“ May I be pardoned for supposing, sir,” he said, 
“ that your present visit to my house is intended for 
my niece ? ” 

Lawrence looked at him a little earnestly, and re¬ 
plied that it was so intended. 

“ Then, sir, I think I have the right to ask, as my 
niece’s present guardian, and almost indeed as her 
fatherj^whether or not your visit is connected in any 
way with matrimonial overtures toward that lady?” 


The Late Mrs Null, 


125 


Not wishing to foolishly and dishonorably deny 
that such was his purpose in going to Midbranch; 
and feeling that it would be as unwise to decline an¬ 
swering the question as it would be unmanly to re¬ 
sort to subterfuge about it, Lawrence replied, that 
his object in visiting Miss March that day was to 
make matrimonial overtures to her. 

‘‘ I think,” said Mr Brandon, ‘‘ that you will be 
obliged to me if I make you acquainted with the 
present condition of affairs between Miss March 
and Mr Junius Keswick.” 

“Has not their engagement been broken off?” 
interrupted Lawrence. 

“Only conditionally,” answered the old gentle¬ 
man. “ They love each other. They wish to be 
married. With one exception, all their relatives de¬ 
sire that they should marry. It would be a union, 
not only congenial in the highest degree to the par¬ 
ties concerned, but of the greatest advantage to our 
family and our family fortunes. There is but a sin¬ 
gle obstacle to this most desirable union, and that 
is the unwarrantable opposition of one person. But, 
I am happy to say that this opposition is on the 
point of being removed. I consider it to be but a 
matter of days when my niece and Mr Keswick, with 
the full approbation of the relatives on either side, 
will renew in the eyes of the world that engagement 
which I consider still exists in fact.” 

“If this is so,” said Lawrence, grinding his heel 
very deeply into the ground, “ why was I not told 
of it?” 


126 


The Late Mrs Null, 


“ My dear sir! ” exclaimed Mr Brandon, “ have 
you ever intimated to me or to any of my family, that 
your intentions in visiting Midbranch were other 
than those of an ordinary friend or acquaintance ? ” 

Lawrence admitted that he had never made any 
such intimation. 

“ Then, sir,” said Mr Brandon, “what reason could 
we have for mentioning this subject to you—a sub¬ 
ject that would not have been referred to now, had 
it not been for your admission of your intended ob¬ 
ject in visiting my house ? ” 

Lawrence had no answer to make to this, but it 
was not easy to turn him from his purpose. “ Ex¬ 
cuse me, sir,” he said, “ but I think a matter of this 
sort should be left to the lady. If she is not in¬ 
clined to receive my addresses she will say so, and 
there is an end of it.” 

The face of Mr Brandon slightly reddened, but 
his voice remained as quiet and courteous as before. 
“You do not comprehend, sir, the state of affairs, or 
you would see that a procedure of that kind would 
be. extremely ill-judged at this time. Were it known 
that at this critical moment Miss March was ad¬ 
dressed by another suitor, it would seriously jeopar¬ 
dize the success of plans which we all have very 
much at heart.” 

Lawrence did not immediately reply to this crafty 
speech. His teeth were very firmly set, and he 
looked steadfastly before him. “ I do not under¬ 
stand all this,” he said, presently, “ nor do I see that 
there is any need for my understanding it. In fact 


The Late Mrs NulL 


127 


I have nothing to do with it. I wish to propose 
marriage to Miss March. If she declines my offer 
there is an end of the matter. If she accepts me, 
then it is quite proper that all your plans should fall 
to the ground. She is the principal in the affair, and 
it is due to her and due to me that she should make 
the decision in this case.” 

Mr Brandon had not quite so many teeth as his 
younger companion, but the very fair number which 
remained with him were set together quite as firmly 
as those of Lawrence had been. He remarked, 
speaking very distinctly but without any shov/ of 
emotion: “ I see, sir, that it is quite impossible for 
us to think alike on this subject, and there is, there¬ 
fore, nothing left for me to do but to ask you—and 
I assure you, sir, that the request is as destitute of 
any intention of discourtesy as if it were based upon 
the presence of sickness or family affliction—that 
you will not visit my house at present.” 

Lawrence rose to his feet with a good deal of 
color in his face. That settles the matter for the 
present,” he said. “ Of course I shall not go to a 
house which is forbidden to me. I wish you good¬ 
morning, sir.” And he stalked to his horse, and en-^ 
deavored to pull down the limb to which its bridle 
was attached. 

Mr Brandon followed him. “You must mount 
before you can unfasten your bridle,” he said. “ And 
allow me to assure you, sir, that as soon as this lit¬ 
tle affair is settled I shall be very happy indeed to 
see you again at my house.” 


128 


The Late Mrs Null, 


Lawrence having succeeded in loosening his bridle 
from the tree, made answer with a bow, and galloped 
away to the Green Sulphur Springs. 

Mr Brandon now mounted and rode home. This 
was the first time in his life that he had ever for¬ 
bidden any one to visit Midbranch, and yet he did 
not feel that he had been either discourteous or in¬ 
hospitable. “ There are times,’’ he said to himself, 
when a man must stand up for his own interest ; 
and this is one of the times.” 


CHAPTER XI. 


In the little dining-room of the cottage at the 
Green Sulphur Springs sat that evening Lawrence 
Croft, a perturbed and angry, but a resolute man. 
He had been quite a long time coming to the con¬ 
clusion to propose to Roberta March, and now that 
he had made up his mind to do so, even in spite of 
certain convictions, it naturally aroused his indigna¬ 
tion to find himself suddenly stopped short by such 
an insignificant person as Mr Brandon, a gentleman 
to whom, in this affair, he had given no considera¬ 
tion whatever. The fact that the lady wished to 
see him added much to his annoyance and discom¬ 
fiture. He had no idea what reason she had for 
desiring an interview with him, but, whatever she 
should say to him, he intended to follow by a de¬ 
claration of his sentiments. He had not the slightest 
notion in the world of giving up the prosecution of 
his suit; but, having been requested not to come to 
Midbranch, what was he to do ? He might write to 
Miss March, but that would not suit him. In a 
matter like this he would wish to adapt his words and 
his manner to the moods and disposition of the lady, 
and he could not do this in a letter. When he 
wooed a woman, he must see her and speak to her. 
To any clandestine approach, any whispered con- 
9 


130 


The Late Mrs Null. 


versation beneath her window, he would give no 
thought. Having been asked by the master of the 
house not to go there, he would not go; but he 
would see her, and tell his love. And, more than 
that, he would win her. 

That morning, while waiting for the time to ap¬ 
proach when it would be proper for him to go to 
Midbranch, he had been reading in a bound volume 
of an old English magazine, which was one of the 
five books the cottage possessed, an account of a 
battle which had interested him very much. The 
commander of one army had massed his forces along 
and below the crest of a line of low hills, the ex¬ 
treme right of his line being occupied by a strong 
force of cavalry. The army opposed to him was 
much stronger than his own, and it was not long 
before the battle began to go very much against 
him. His positions on the left were carried by the 
combined charge of the larger portion of the en¬ 
emy’s forces, and, in spite of a vigorous resistance, 
his lines were forced back, down the hill, and into 
the valley. It was quite evident he could make no 
stand, and was badly beaten. Thereupon, he sent 
orders to his generals on the left to retreat, in as 
good order as possible, across a small river in their 
rear. While this movement was in progress, and 
the enemy was making the greatest efforts to pre¬ 
vent it, the commander put himself at the head of 
his cavalry and led them swiftly from the scene of 
battle. He took them diagonally over the crest of 
the hill, down the other side, and then charging 


The Late Mrs Null, 


131 

with this fresh body of horse upon the rear and 
camp of the enemy, he swiftly captured the general- 
in-chief, his staff, and the Minister of War, who had 
come down to see how things were going on. With 
these important prisoners he dashed away, leaving 
the acephalous enemy to capture his broken col¬ 
umns if he could. 

This was the kind of thing Lawrence Croft would 
like to do. For an hour or more he puzzled his brains 
as to how he should make such a cavalry charge, 
and at last he came to a determination; he would 
ask Junius Keswick to assist him. There was some¬ 
thing odd about this plan which pleased Croft. 
Keswick was his rival, with the powerful backing of 
Mr Brandon and a whole tribe of relatives, and it 
might naturally be supposed that he was the last 
man in the world of whom he would ask assistance. 
But, looking at it from his point of view, Lawrence 
thought that not only would he be taking no undue 
advantage of the other in asking him to help him in 
this matter, but that Keswick ought not and would 
not object to it. If Miss March really preferred 
Croft, Keswick should feel himself bound in honor 
to do everything, he could to let the two settle the 
affair between themselves. This was drawing the 
point very fine, but Lawrence persuaded himself 
that if the case were reversed he would not marry a 
girl who had not chosen another man, simply be¬ 
cause she had had no opportunity of doing so. He 
had a strong belief that Keswick was of his way of 
thinking, and before he went to bed he wrote his 


132 


The Late Mrs NulL 


rival a note, asking him to call upon him the follow¬ 
ing day. 

Early the next morning the note was carried over 
to Midbranch by a messenger, who returned, saying 
that Mr Keswick had gone away, and that his 
present address was Hewlett's in the same county. 
This piece of information caused Lawrence Croft to 
open his eyes very wide. A few days before he 
had received a letter from Mrs Null, written at 
Hewlett’s, and now Keswick had gone there. He 
had been very much surprised when he found that 
the cashier had so successfully carried on the search 
for Keswick as to come into the very county in 
Virginia where he was ; and he intended to write to 
her that he had no further occasion for her services; 
but he had not done so, and here were the pursuer and 
the pursued in the same town, or village, or whatever 
Hewlett’s was. He gave Mrs Null credit for being 
one of the best detectives he had ever heard of; for, 
apparently, she had not only been able to success¬ 
fully track the man she was in search of, but to find 
out where he was going, and had reached the place 
in question before he did. But he also berated her 
soundly in his mind for her over-oihciousness. He 
had not wished her to swoop down upon the man, 
but only to inform him of his whereabouts. The 
next thing that would probably happen would be 
the appearance of Mrs Null at the Green Sulphur 
Springs, holding Keswick by the collar. He deeply 
regretted that he had ever intrusted this young 
woman with the investigation, not because he had 


The Late Mrs NtilL 


133 


since met Keswick himself, but for the reason that 
she was entirely too energetic and imprudent. If 
Keswick should find out from her that she had been 
in search of him, and why, it might bring about a 
very unpleasant state of affairs. 

Croft saw now, quite plainly, what he must do. 
He must go to Howlett’s as quickly as possible. 
Perhaps Keswick and the cashier had not yet met, 
and, in that case, all he would have to do would be 
to remunerate the young woman and her husband— 
for she had informed him that she intended to com¬ 
bine this business with a wedding tour—and send 
them off immediately. He could then have his con¬ 
ference with Keswick there as well as at the Springs. 
If any mischief had already been done, he did not 
know what course he might have to pursue, but it 
was highly necessary for him to be on the spot as 
soon as possible. He greatly disliked to leave the 
neighborhood of Roberta March, but his absence 
would only be temporary. 

After an early dinner, he mounted the horse which 
he had hired from his host of the Springs, and, with 
a valise strapped behind him, set out for Howlett’s. 
He had made careful inquiries in regard to the road, 
and after a ride somewhat tiresome to a man not 
used to such protracted horseback exercise, arrived 
at his destination about sundown. When he reached 
the scattered houses which formed, as he supposed, 
the outskirts of the village, for such he had been told 
it was, he rode on, but soon found that he had left 
Howlett’s behind him, and that those supposed out- 


^34 


The Late Mrs NulL 


skirts were the place itself. Hewlett’s was nothing, 
in fact, but a collection of eight or ten houses quite 
widely separated from each other, and the only one 
of them which exhibited any public character what¬ 
ever, was the store, a large frame building standing a 
little back from the road. Turning his horse, Law¬ 
rence rode up to the store and inquired if there was 
any house in the neighborhood where he could get 
lodging for the night. 

The storekeeper, who came out to him, was a very 
little man whose appearance recalled to Croft the 
fact that he had noticed, in this part of the State, a 
great many men who were extremely tall, and a 
great many who were extremely small, which pecu¬ 
liarity, he thought, might assist a physiologist in 
discovering the different effects of hot bread upon 
different organizations. He was quite as cordial, 
however, as the biggest, burliest, and jolliest host 
who ever welcomed a guest to his inn, as he in¬ 
formed Mr Croft that there was no house in the vil¬ 
lage which made a business of entertaining strangers, 
but if he chose to stop with him he would keep him 
and his horse for the night, and do what he could to 
make him comfortable. 

Lawrence ate supper that night with the store¬ 
keeper, his wife, and five of his children; but as he 
was very hungry, and the meal was a plentiful one, 
he enjoyed the experience. 

“ I suppose you’re goin’ on to Westerville in the 
mornin’?” said the little host. 

“ No,” replied Croft, “ I am not going any farther 


The Late Mrs Null. 


135 

than this place. Do you know if a gentleman named 
Keswick arrived here recently ? ” 

“ Why, yaas,” said the man, “ if you mean Junius 
Keswick.” 

“ Certainly he did,” said Mrs Storekeeper. He 
rode through here yesterday, and he stopped at the 
store to see if we had any of that Lynchburg tobacco 
he used to smoke when he lived here. He’s gone on 
to his aunt’s.” 

“ Where is that ? ” asked Croft. 

It’s about two miles out on the Westerville 
road,” said the little man. “ If I’d knowed you 
wanted to see him. I’d ’a told you to keep right on, 
and you could ’a stopped with Mrs Keswick over 
night.” 

Lawrence wished to ask some questions about 
Mrs Null, but he was afraid to do so lest he might 
excite suspicions by connecting her with Keswick. 
If-the latter had gone two miles out of town, per¬ 
haps she had not yet seen him. 

The room in which Lawrence slept that night was 
to him a very odd one. It was a long apartment, at 
one end of which was a clean, comfortable bed, a 
couple of chairs, and a table on which was a basin 
and pitcher. At the other end were piles of new- 
looking boxes, containing groceries of various kinds, 
rolls of cotton cloth and other dry goods, and, what 
attracted his attention more than anything else, a 
vast number of bright tin cans, bearing on their 
sides brilliant pictures of tomatoes, peaphes, green 
corn, and other preservable eatables. These were 




136 


The Late Mrs Null. 


evidently the reserved stores of the establishment, 
and they were so different from the bedroom decora¬ 
tions to which he was accustomed, that it quite 
pleased Lawrence to think that with all his experi¬ 
ence in life he was now lodged in a manner entirely 
novel to him. As he lay awake looking at the 
moonlight glittering on the sides of the multitude 
of cans, the thought came into his mind that this 
had probably been the room of the Nulls when they 
were here. 

“As this is the only house in the place where 
travellers are entertained,” he said to himself, “ of 
course they must have come to it. And as they are 
not here now, it is quite plain that they must have 
gone away. I am very glad of it, especially if they 
left before Keswick arrived, for their departure prob¬ 
ably prevented an awkward situation. But I shall 
ask the storekeeper no questions about these people. 
There is no better way of giving inquisitive folk the 
entree to your affairs than by asking questions. Of 
course there was no reason why they should stay 
here after they had successfully traced Keswick to 
this part of the country; and every reason, if they 
wanted to enjoy themselves, why they should go 
away. But I can’t help being sorry that I did not 
meet the young woman, and have an opportunity of 
paying her for her trouble, and giving her a few 
words of advice in regard to her action, or, rather, 
non-action in this matter. She has a fine head for 
business, ^t I should like to feel certain that she 
understands that her business with me is over.” 


The Late Mrs Null, 


137 


And he turned his eyes from the glittering cans, and 
slept. 

The next morning, Lawrence Croft rode on to 
Mrs Keswick’s house, and when he reached the 
second, or inner gate, he saw, on the other side of it, 
an elderly female, wearing a purple sun-bonnet and 
carrying a purple umbrella. There was something 
very eccentric about the garb of this elderly person¬ 
age, and many an inexperienced city man would 
have taken her for a retired nurse, or some other 
domestic retainer of the family, but there was a 
steadfastness in her gaze, and a fire in her eye, 
which indicated to Lawrence that she was one much 
more accustomed to give orders than to take them: 
He raised his hat very politely, and asked if Mr 
Keswick was to be found there. 

If the commander of the army, about whom Mr 
Croft had recently been reading, had beheld in the 
earlier stages of the battle a strong, friendly force 
advancing to his aid, he would not have been more 
delighted than Lawrence would have been had he 
known what a powerful ally to his cause stood be¬ 
neath that purple sun-bonnet. 

Do you mean Junius Keswick?” said the old 
lady. 

“ Yes, madam,” answered Croft. 

“ He is here, and you will find him at the house.” 

The gate was partly open, and Lawrence rode in. 
The old lady stepped aside to let him pass. 

Do you want to see him on business ? ” she said. 
“ How did you know he was here ? ” ^ 



138 


The Late Mrs Null, 


I inquired at Hewlett’s, madam.” 

Mrs Keswick would have liked to ask some fur¬ 
ther questions, but there was something about Law¬ 
rence’s appearance that deterred her. 

“You can tie your horse under that tree over 
there,” she said, pointing to a spot more trampled 
by hoofs than the old lady wished any other portion 
of her house-yard to* be. 

When Lawrence had tied his bridle to a hook sus¬ 
pended by a strap from one of the lower branches of 
the indicated tree, he advanced to the house; and a 
veiy much astonished man was he to see, sitting side 
by side on the porch, Junius Keswick and Mr 
Candy’s cashier. They were seated in the shade of 
a mass of honeysuckle vines, and were so busily en¬ 
gaged in conversation that they had not perceived 
his approach. Even now Lawrence had time to 
look at them for a few moments before they turned 
their eyes upon him. 

Equally astonished were the two people on the 
porch, who now arose to their feet. Junius Keswick 
naturally wondered very much why Mr Croft should 
come to see him here; and as for the young lady, 
she was almost as much terrified as surprised. Had 
this man come down from New York to swoop upon 
her cousin ? Had it been possible that she could 
have given him any idea of the whereabouts of 
Junius ? In her last note to him she had been very 
careful to promise information, but not to give any, 
hoping thus to gain time to get an insight into the 
matter, alfd to keep her cousin out of danger, if, in- 


The Late Mrs Null. 


139 


deed, any danger threatened. But here the pursuer 
had found Junius in less than a day after she had first 
met him herself. But when she saw Junius advance 
and shake hands in a very friendly way with Mr 
Croft, her terror began to decrease, although her 
surprise continued at the same high-water mark, 
and Keswick found himself in a flood of the same 
emotion when Croft very politely saluted his cousin 
by name, which salutation was returned in a manner 
which indicated that the parties were acquainted. 

At first Croft had been prompted to ignore all 
knowledge of the cashier, and meet her as a stranger, 
but his better sense prevented this, for how could 
he know what she had been saying about him. 

I was about to introduce you to my cousin,” 
said Keswick, “ but I see that you already know 
each other.” 

I have had the pleasure of meeting Mrs Null in 
New York,” said Lawrence, to whom the word 
cousin gave what might be called a more important 
surprise than anything with which this three-sided 
interview had yet furnished its participants. He 
gave a quick glance at the lady, and discovered her 
very steadfastly gazing at him. “ I hope,” he said, 
that you and your husband have had a very pleas¬ 
ant trip.” 

“ Mr Null did not come with me,” she quietly re¬ 
plied. 

Lawrence Croft was a man to whom it gave pleas¬ 
ure to deal with problematic situations, unexpected 
developments, and the like; but this was too much 


140 


The Late Mrs Null. 


of a conundrum for him. That the man, whose ad¬ 
dress he had employed this girl to find out, should 
prove to be her cousin, and that she should start on 
her bridal trip without her husband, were points on 
which his reason had no power to work. One thing, 
however, he quickly determined upon. He would 
have an interview with Madam Cashier, and have 
her explain these mysteries. She was, virtually, his 
agent, and had no right to conceal from him what 
she had been doing, and why she had done it. 

It was necessary, however, that he should waste 
no time in thoughts of this kind, but should imme¬ 
diately state to Mr Keswick the reason of his visit; 
for it could not be supposed he had called in a 
merely social way. “ I wish to speak to you,” he 
said, ‘^on a little matter of business.” 

At these words Mrs Null excused herself, and 
went into the house. Her mind was troubled as 
she wondered what the business was which had 
made this New York gentleman so extraordinarily 
desirous to find her cousin. Was it anything that 
would injure Junius? She looked back as she 
entered the door, but the object of her solicitude 
was sitting with a face so calm and composed that it 
showed very plainly he did not expect any commu¬ 
nication which would be harmful to him. 

“ It is a satisfaction,” thought Mr Croft, “ a very 
great satisfaction that I can enter upon the object 
of my visit knowing that my affairs and my actions 
have not been discussed by this gentleman and Mrs 
Null.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


Old Mrs Keswick would willingly have followed 
the strange gentleman to the house in order to 
know the object of his visit, but as he had come to 
see Junius she refrained, for she knew her nephew 
would not like any appearance of curiosity on her 
part. Her reception of Junius had been very dif¬ 
ferent indeed from that she had previously accorded 
him when she declined to be found under the same 
roof with him. Now he was here under very differ¬ 
ent auspices, and for him the very plumpest poultry 
was slain, and everything was done to make him 
comfortable and willing to stay and become ac¬ 
quainted with his cousin, Mrs Null. A match be¬ 
tween these two young people was the present 
object of the old lady’s existence, and she set about 
making it w^th as much determination and canfi- 
dence as if there had been no such person as Mr 
Null. Of this individual she had the most con¬ 
temptible opinion. She had never asked many 
questions about him, because, in her intercourse 
with her niece, she wished, as far as possible, to 
ignore him. Having mentally pictured him in var¬ 
ious mean conditions of life, she had finally settled 
it in her mind that he was an agent for some patent 
fertilizer ; a man of this kind being a very obnoxious 


142 


The Late Mrs Null. 


person to her. This avocation, however, constituted 
in the old lady’s mind no excusable reason for his 
protracted absence ; and if ever a wife was deserted, 
she believed that her niece Annie was such a wife. 

“ If he should stay away much longer,” she said to 
herself, “ we shall have no more trouble in getting 
a divorce than to have his funeral sermon preached. 
And if there is any talk of his coming here, or of 
her going to him. I’ll put my foot down on that 
sort of thing, if I’ve a foot left to do it with.” 

When she had first perceived the approach of Mr 
Croft,, a fear had seized her that this might be the 
recreant husband, but the gentlemanly appearance 
of the stranger soon dispelled this idea from her 
prejudiced mind. Apart from the fact that she had 
no business at the house with her nephew’s visitor, 
she had positive business in the garden with old 
Uncle Isham, and there she repaired. There was 
some work to be done in regard to a flower pit, in 
which some of her choicest plants were to be domi¬ 
ciled during the winter, and this she wished person¬ 
ally to oversee. Although the autumn was well 
advanced, the day was somewhat warm ; and as the 
pair, whom Mr Croft had seen on the porch, had 
been glad to shelter themselves in the shade of the 
honeysuckle vines, so Mrs Keswick seated herself on 
a little bench behind a large arbor, still covered by 
heavy vines, which stood on the boundary line be¬ 
tween the garden and the front yard, and opened 
on the latter. This bench, which was always shady 
in the morning, she had had placed there that she 


The Late Mrs NulL 


143 


might comfortably direct the labors of old Isham, 
the boy Plez, or whoever, for the time being, hap¬ 
pened to be her gardener. 

Mr Croft did not immediately begin the state¬ 
ment of the business which had brought him to see 
Junius Keswick. Several windows of the house 
opened on the porch, and he did not wish what he 
had to say to be heard by any one except the person 
he was addressing. “ I desire to talk to you on some 
private matters,” he said. “ Could we not walk a 
little away from the house ? ” 

“ Certainly,” said Junius, rising. “We will step 
over to that arbor by the garden. We shall be quite 
comfortable and secluded there. This is the place,” 
said Junius, as they seated themselves in the arbor, 
“ where, when a boy, I used to come to smoke. My 
aunt did not allow this diversion, but I managed to 
do a gopd deal of puffing before I was found out.” 

“ Then you used to live here ?” asked Croft. 

“ Oh, yes,” said Keswick, “ my parents died when 
I was quite a little fellow, and my aunt had charge 
of me until I had grown up.” 

“Was that your aunt whom I met at the gate? 
There was something about her bearing and general 
appearance which greatly interested me.” 

“ She is a most estimable lady,” returned Junius. 
And not wishing further to discuss his relative, he 
added : And now, what is it, sir, that I can have 

the pleasure of doing for you?” 

“ The matter regards Miss March,” said Croft. 

“ I presumed so,” remarked the other. 


144 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“ I will state it as briefly as possible,” continued 
Croft. “ In consequence of your visit to me at the 
the Springs, I set out, the day before yesterday, to 
make another attempt to call on Miss March, the 
first one having been frustrated, as you may remem¬ 
ber, by the information we received at the gate in 
regard to Miss March’s indisposition, which, as I 
have heard nothing more of it, I hope was of no 
importance.” 

Of none whatever,” said Junius. 

‘‘When I was within a mile or so of Midbranch,’' 
continued Croft, “ I met Mr Brandon, who requested 
me not to come to his house, and, in fact, to cease 
my visits altogether.” 

“ What ! ” cried Keswick, very much surprised. 
“ That is not at all like Mr Brandon. What reason 
could he have for treating you in such a manner ? ” 

“ The very best in the world,” said Croft. “ Hav¬ 
ing, as the guardian of his niece, asked me the object 
of my visit to Miss March, and, having been in¬ 
formed by me that it was my intention to propose 
matrimony to the lady, he requested that I would 
not visit at his house.” 

“ On what ground did he base his objection to 
your visit ? ” asked Keswick. 

“ He made no objection to me ; he simply stated 
that he did not desire me to come, because he 
wished his niece to marry you.” 

“ Quite plainly spoken,” remarked Keswick. 

“ Nothing could be more so,” replied Croft. “ I 
could not expect any one to be franker with me 


The Late Mrs Ntcll. 


145 


than he was. He went on to inform me that a 
match between the lady and yourself was greatly de¬ 
sired by the whole family connection, with a single 
exception, which, however, he did not name, and, 
while he gave me to understand that he had no rea¬ 
son to fear that, so far as the lady was concerned, 
my proposal would interfere with your prospects, 
still, were it known that there was another aspirant 
in the field, a very undesirable state of things might 
ensue. What this state of affairs was he did not 
state, but I presume it had something to do with the 
exceptional opposition to which he referred.’' 

“ And what did you say to all that ? ” asked 
Junius. 

‘‘ I said very little. When a man asks me not to 
come to his house, I don’t go. But, nevertheless, I 
have fully made up my mind to propose to Miss 
March as soon as I can get an opportunity. I have 
nothing to do with family arrangements or family 
opposition. You have told me that you are not en¬ 
gaged to her, and I am going to try to be engaged 
to her. She is the one to decide this matter. And 
now I have called upon you, Mr Keswick, to see if 
there is any way in which you can assist me in ob¬ 
taining an interview with Miss March.” 

“Don’t you think,” said Junius, “ that it is rather 
cool in you to ask me to assist you in this matter?” 

“Not at all,” replied the other. “If it had not 
been for you I should now be in New York, with no 
thought of present proposals of marriage. But you 
came to me, and insisted that I should see the lady.” 


10 


146 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“ That was simply because she had expressed a 
strong desire to see you.” 

“ Very good,” said Lawrence. “ I tried to go to 
her, as you know, and was prevented. Now all I 
ask of you is to help me to do what you so strongly 
urged me to do. There is nothing particularly cool 
in that, I think.” 

Keswick did not immediately reply. “ I am not 
sure,” he said, “ that Miss March still wishes to see 
you.” 

“ That may be,” replied Croft, speaking a little 
warmly. “ None of us exactly know what she thinks 
or wishes. But I want to find out what she thinks 
about me by distinctly asking her. And I should 
suppose you would consider it to your advantage, as 
well as mine, that I should do so.” 

“ I have my own opinion on that point,” said Kes¬ 
wick, ‘‘ which it is not necessary to discuss at present. 
If I were to assist you to an interview with Miss 
March it would be on the lady’s account, not on 
yours or mine. But apart from the fact that I do 
not know if she now desires an interview, I would 
not do anything that would offend or annoy Mr 
Brandon.” 

I don’t ask that of you,” said Croft, “ but 
couldn’t you use your influence with him to give me 
a fair chance with the lady ? That is all I ask, and, 
whether she accej)ts me or rejects me, I am sure 
everybody pught to-be satisfied.” 

Keswick silked. “You don’t leave any margin 
for sentiment,” he said, “ but I suppose it is just as 


The Late Mrs Null. 


147 


well to deal with this matter in a practical way. I 
do not think, howej/er, that any influence I can 
exert on Mr Brandon would induce him to allow 
you to address his niece if he is opposed to it, and I 
am sure he would have a very strange opinion of me 
if I attempted such a thing. At present I do not 
see that I can help you at all, but I will think over 
the matter, and we will talk of it again.” 

“Thank you,” said Croft, rising. “And when 
shall I call upon you to hear your decision ? ” 

It was rather difficult for Junius Keswick to an¬ 
swer a question like this on the spur of the moment. 
He arose and walked with Croft out of the arbor. 
His first impulse, as a Virginia gentleman, was to 
invite his visitor to stay at the house until the mat¬ 
ter should be settled, but he did not know what 
extraordinary freak on the part of his aunt might be 
caused by such an invitation. But before he had 
decided what to say, they were met by Mrs Keswick 
coming from the garden. Junius thereupon pre¬ 
sented Mr Croft, who was welcomed by the old lady 
with extended hand and exceeding cordiality. 

“ I am very glad,” she said, “ to meet a friend of 
my nephew. But where are you going, Sir? Cer¬ 
tainly not toward your horse. You must stay and 
dine with us.” 

Lawrence hesitated. He had no claims on the 
hospitality of these people, but he wished very 
much to have an opportunity to speak to Mrs Null. 
“ Thank you,” he said, “ but I am staying down 
here at the village, and it is but a short ride.” 


148 


The Late Mrs' Ntill. 


“ Staying at Hewlett’s ?” exclaimed Mrs Kes¬ 
wick. “At which hotel, may I ask?” 

Lawrence laughed. “ I am stopping with the 
storekeeper,” he said. 

“That settles it!” said the old lady, giving her 
umbrella a jab into the ground. “ Tom Peckett’s 
accommodations may be good enough for pedlers 
and travelling agents, but they are not fit for gen¬ 
tlemen, especially one of my nephew’s friends. You 
must stay with us, sir, as long as you are in this 
neighborhood. I insist upon it.” 

Junius was very much astonished at his aunt’s 
speech and manner. The old lady was not at all in¬ 
hospitable ; so far was it otherwise the case, that, 
rather than deprive an objectionable visitor of the 
shelter of her roof, she would go from under it her¬ 
self ; but he had never known her to “ gush ” in this 
manner upon a stranger. He now felt at liberty, 
however, to obey his own impulses, and urged Mr 
Croft to stay with them. 

‘4 You are very kind, indeed,” said Lawrence, “ and 
I shall be glad to defer for the present my return to 
my ‘ hotel.’ This will give me the additional pleas¬ 
ure of renewing my acquaintance with Mrs Null.” 

“ What 1 ” exclaimed Mrs Keswick, “ do you know 
her, too ? And to think of you stopping at Peckett’s! 
Your home, sir, while you stay in these parts, is here.” 

Before the three reached the house, Mrs Keswick 
had inquired how long Mr Croft had known her 
niece; and had discovered, much to her disappoint¬ 
ment, that he had never met Mr Null. 


The Late Mrs Null, 


149 


Shortly after the arrival at the house of the gen¬ 
tleman on horseback little Plez ran into the kitchen, 
where Letty was engaged in preparing vegetables 
for dinner. 

“ Who d’ye think is done come ? ” he exclaimed. 

Miss Annie’s husband ! Jes’ rid up to de house.” 

“ Dat so ?” cried Letty, dropping into her lap the 
knife and the potato she was peeling. ‘‘Well, truly, 
when things does happen in dis worl’ dey comes all 
in a lump. None ob de fam’ly been nigh de house 
for ebber so long; an’ den, ’long comes Mahs’ Jun¬ 
ius hisse’f, an’ Miss Annie dat’s been away sence she 
was a chile, an’ ole Mr Brandon, wot Uncle Isham 
say ain’t been h’yar fur years and years, an’ now 
Miss Annie’s husband comes kitin’ up! An’ dar’s 
ole Aun’ Patsy wot says dat if dat gemman ebber 
come h’yar she want to know it fus’ thing. She 
was dreffle p’inted about dat. An’ now, look 
h’yar, you Plez, jus’ you cut round to your Aun’ 
Patsy’s, an’ tell her Miss Annie’s husband’s done 
come.” 

“ Whar ole Miss ? ” inquired Plez. “ She ’sleep ? ” 

“ No, she mighty wide awake,” said Letty. “ But 
you take dem knives an’ dat board an’ brick, an’ run 
down to de branch to clean ’em. An’, when you gits 
dar, you jus’ slip along, ’hind de bushes, till you’s got 
ter de cohn fiel’, an’ den you cut ’cross dar to Aun’ 
Patsy’s. An’ don’ you stop no time dar, fur if ole 
Miss finds you’s done gone, she’ll chop you up wid 
dem knives.” 

Plez was quite ready for a reckless dash of this 


The Late Mrs Null, 


i 50 

kind, and in less than twenty minutes old Patsy 
was informed that Mr Null had arrived. The old 
woman was much affected by the information. She 
was uneasy and restless, and talked a good deal to 
herself, occasionally throwing out a moan or a la¬ 
ment in the direction of her “ son Tom’s yaller boy 
Bob’s chile.” The crazy quilt, which was not yet 
finished, though several pieces had been added since 
we last saw it, was laid aside; and by the help of 
the above mentioned great granddaughter the old 
hair trunk was hauled out and opened. Over this 
hoard of treasures. Aunt Patsy spent nearly two 
hours, slowly taking up the various articles it con¬ 
tained, turning them over, mumbling over them, 
and mentally referring many of them to periods 
which had become historic. At length she pulled 
out from one of the corners of the trunk a pair of 
very little blue morocco shoes tied together by 
their strings. These she took into her lap, and, 
shortly afterward, had the trunk locked, and pushed 
back into its place. The shoes, having been thor¬ 
oughly examined through her great iron-bound 
spectacles, were thrust under the mattress of her 
bed. 

That evening. Uncle Isham stepped in to see the 
old woman, who was counteracting the effects of 
the cool evening air by sitting as close as possible 
to the remains of the fire which had cooked the 
supper. She was very glad to see him. She 
wanted somebody to whom she could unburden her 
mind. 


The Late Mrs Null, 


151 

‘‘Wot you got to say ’bout Miss Annie’s hus-. 
band,” she asked, “ wot done come to-day ? 

“ Was dat him ? ” exclaimed the old man. \^- No¬ 
body tole me dat.” 

This was true, for the good-natured Letty, hav¬ 
ing discovered the mistake that had been made, 
had concluded to say nothing about it and to keep 
away from Aunt Patsy’s for a few days, until the 
matter should be forgotten. 

“ Well, I spec Miss Annie’s mighty glad to git 
him back agin,” continued the old man, after a 
moment’s reflection. “ He’s right much of a nice 
lookin’ gemman. I seed him this ebenin’a ridin’ 
wid Mahs’ Junius.” 

“ P’raps Miss Annie is glad,” said the ole woman, 
“ coz she don’ know. But I ain’t.” 

“ Wot’s de reason fur dat?” inquired Isham. 

“ It’s a pow’ful dreffle thing dat Miss Annie’s 
husband’s done come down h’yar. He don’ know 
ole miss.” 

“Wot’s de matter wid ole miss?” asked Isham, 
in a quick tone. 

“ She done talk to me ’bout him,” said the old 
woman. “ She done tole me jus’ wot she think of 
him. She hate him from he heel up. I dunno wot 
she’ll do to him now she got him. Mighty great 
pity fur pore Miss Annie dat he ever come h’yar.” 

“ Ole miss ain’t gwine ter do nuffin’ to him,” said 
Isham, in a gruff and troubled tone. 

“ Don’ you b’lieve dat,” said Aunt Patsy. “When 
ole miss don’ like a pusson, dat pusson had better 


152 


/The Late Mrs Null, 

look oul/^ But I ain’t gwine to be sottin’ h’yar an’ 
see mj/ry cornin’ to Miss Annie.” 

“ Wot you gwine to do ?” asked Isham. 

I’s gwine ter speak my min’ to ole miss. I’s 
gwine to tell her not to do no kunjerin’ to Miss 
Annie’s husban’. She gwine to hurt dat little gal 
more’n she hurt anybody else.” 

Old Isham sat looking into the fire with a very 
worried and anxious expression on his face. He 
was intensely loyal to his mistress, aware as he was 
of her short-comings, or rather her long-goings. 
Although he felt a good deal of fear that there 
might be some truth in Aunt Patsy’s words, he 
was very sure that if she took it upon herself to 
give warning or reproof to old Mrs Keswick, a storm 
would ensue; and where the lightning would strike 
he did not know. “You better look out, Aun’ 
Patsy,” he said.’* “You an’ ole miss been mighty 
good fren’s fur a pow’ful long time, an’ now don’ 
you go gittin’ yourse’f in no fraction wid her, jus’ as 
you’ bout to die.” 

“Ain’t gwine to die,” said the old woman, “till I 
done tole her wot’s on my min’.” 

“Aun’ Patsy,” said Uncle Isham, after gazing 
silently in the fire for a minute or two, “ dar was a 
brudder wot come up from ’Melia County to de las’ 
big preachin’, an’ he tole in his sarment a par’ble wot 
I b’lieve will ’ply fus rate to dis ’casion. I’s gwine 
to tell you dat.” 

“ Go ’long wid it,” said Aunt Patsy. 

“Well, den,” said Isham, “ dar was once a cullud 


The Late Mrs Null. 


153 


angel wot went up to de gate ob heaben to git in. 
He didn’t know nuffin’ ’bout de ways ob de place, 
bein’ a strahnger, an’ when he see all de white 
angels a crowdin’ in at de gate where Sent Peter 
was a settin’, he sorter looked round to see if dar 
warn’t no gate wot he might go in at. Den ole 
Sent Peter he sings out: ^ Look h’yar, uncle, whar 
you gwine? Dar ain’t no cullud gal’ry in dis ’stab- 
lishment. You’s got to come in dis same gate wid 
de udder folks.’ So de cullud angel he come up to 
de gate, but he kin’ a hung back till de udders had 
got in. Jus’ den ’long comes a white angel on hoss- 
back, wot was in a dreffle hurry to git in to de gate. 
De cullud angel, he mighty p’lite, an’ he went up an’ 
tuk de hoss, an’ when de white angel had got down 
an’ gone in, he went roun’ lookin’ fur a tree to hitch 
him to. * But when he went back agin to de gate. 
Sent Peter had jus’ shet it, and was lockin’ it up 
wid a big padlock. He jus’ looks ober de gate 
at de cullud angel an’ he says: ‘ No ’mittance 
ahfter six o’clock.’ An’ den he go in to his sup- 
per. 

‘‘ An’ wot dat cullud angel do den ? ” asked Eliza, 
who had been listening breathlessly to this narra¬ 
tive. 

“ Dunno,” said Isham, “ but I reckin de debbil 
come ’long in de night an’ tuk him off. Dar’s a 
lesson in dis h’yar par’ble wot ’ud do you good to 
clap to your heart, Aun’ Patsy. Don’ you be gwine 
roun’ tryin’ to help udder people jus’ as you is all 
ready to go inter de gate ob heaben. Ef you try 


154 


The Late Mrs Null. 


any ob dat dar foolishness, de fus’ thing you know 
you’ll find dat gate shet.” 

Is dat your ’Melia County par’ble ? ” asked the 
old woman. 

Dat’s it,'’ answered Isham. 

“ Reckon dat country’s better fur ’bacca dan fur 
par’bles,” grunted Aunt Patsy, 


CHAPTER XIII. 


Lawrence Croft had no idea of leaving the 
neighborhood of Howlett’s until Keswick had made 
up his mind what he was going to do, and until he 
had had a private talk with Mrs Null; and, as it was 
quite evident that the family would be offended if a 
visitor to them should lodge at Peckett’s store, he 
accepted the invitation to spend the night at the 
Keswick house; and in the afternoon Junius rode 
with him to Rowlett’s, where he got his valise, and 
paid his account. 

But no opportunity occurred that day for a t^te- 
a-tete with Mrs Null. Keswick was with him nearly 
all the afternoon; and in the evening the family sat 
together in the parlor, where the conversation was 
a general one, occasionally very much brightened 
by some of the caustic remarks of the old lady in re¬ 
gard to particular men and women, as well as society 
at large. Of course he had many opportunities of 
judging, to the best of his capacity, of certain 
phases of character appertaining to Mr Candy’s cash¬ 
ier ; and, among other things, he came to the con¬ 
clusion that probably she was a young woman who 
would get up early in the morning, and he, there¬ 
fore, determined to do that thing himself, and see 


The Late Mrs Null. 


156 

if he could not have a talk with her before the rest 
of the family were astir. 

Early rising was not one of Croft’s accustomed 
habits, but the next morning he arose a good hour 
before breakfast time. He found the lower part of 
tile house quite deserted, and when he went out on 
the porch he was glad to button up his coat, for the 
morning air was very cool. While walking up and 
down with his hands in his pockets, and looking in 
at the front door every time he passed it, in hopes 
that he might see Mrs Null coming down the stairs, 
he was greeted with a cheery ‘‘good morning,” by 
a voice in the front yard. Turning hastily, he be¬ 
held Mrs Keswick, wearing her purple sunbonnet, 
but without her umbrella. 

“ Glad you like to be up betimes, sir,” said she. 
“That’s my way, and I find it pays. Nobody works 
as well, and I don’t believe the plants and stock 
grow as well, while we are asleep.” 

Lawrence replied that in the city he did not get 
up so early, but that the morning air in the country 
was very fine. 

“ And pretty sharp, too,” said Mrs Keswick. 
“ Come down here in the sunshine, and you will find 
it pleasanter. Step back a little this way, sir,” she 
said, when Lawrence had joined her, “ and give me 
your opinion of that locust tree by the corner of 
the porch. I am thinking of having it cut down. 
Locusts are very apt to get diseased inside, and 
break off, and I am afraid that one will blow over 
some day and fall on the house.” 


The Late Mrs JSfulL 


157 


Lawrence said he thought it looked like a very- 
good tree, and it would be a pity to lose the shade 
it made. 

“ I might plant one of another sort,” said the old 
lady, “but trees grow too slow for old people, 
though plenty fast enough for young ones. I 
reckon I’ll let it stand awhile yet. You were talk¬ 
ing last night of Midbranch, sir. There used to be 
fine trees there, though it’s many years since I’ve 
seen them. Have you been long acquainted with 
the family there ? ” 

Lawrence replied that he had known Miss March 
a good while, having met her in New York. 

“ She is said to be a right smart young lady,” said ’ 
Mrs Keswick, “ well educated, and has travelled in 
Europe. I am told that she is not only a regular 
town lady, but that she makes a first-rate house¬ 
keeper when she is down here in the country.” 

Lawrence replied that he had no doubt that all 
this was very true. 

“ I have never seen her,” continued the old lady, 
“ for there has not been much communication be¬ 
tween the two families of late years, although they 
used to be intimate enough. But my nephew and 
niece have been away a great deal, and old people 
can’t be expected to do much in the way of visiting. 
But I have a notion,” she said, after gazing a few 
moments in a reflective way at the corner of the 
house, “ that it would be well now to be a little 
more sociable again. My niece has no company 
here of her own sex, except me, and I think it 


158 


The Late Mrs NulL 


would do her good to know a young lady like Miss 
March. Mr Brandon has asked me to let Annie 
come there, but I think it would be a great deal 
better for his niece to visit us. Mrs Null is the 
latest comer.” 

Lawrence, speaking much more earnestly than 
when discussing the locust tree, replied that he 
thought this would be quite proper. 

“ I think I may invite her to come here next 
week,” said Mrs Keswick, still meditatively and with¬ 
out apparent regard to the presence of Croft, “prob¬ 
ably on Friday, and ask her to spend a week. And, 
by the way, sir,” she said, turning to her companion, 
“if you are still in this part of the country I would 
be glad to have you ride over and stay a day or two 
while Miss March is here. I will have a little party 
of young folks in honor of Mrs Null. I have done 
nothing of the kind for her, so far.” 

Lawrence said he had no doubt that he would 
stay at the Green Sulphur a week or two longer, 
and that he would be most happy to accept Mrs 
Keswick’s kind invitation. 

They then moved toward the house, but, sud¬ 
denly stopping, as if she had just thought of some¬ 
thing, Mrs Keswick remarked : “ I shall be obliged 
to you, sir, if you will not say anything about this 
little plan of mine, just now. I have not spoken of 
it to any one, having scarcely made up my mind to 
it, and I suppose I should not have mentioned it to 
you if we had not been talking about Midbranch. 
There is nothing I hate so much as to have people 


The Late Mrs Null, 


159 


hear I am going to give them an invitation, or that 
I am going to do anything, in fact, before I have 
fully made up my mind about it.” 

Lawrence assured her that he would say nothing 
on the subject, and she promised to send him a note 
to the Green Sulphur, in case she finally determined 
on having the little company at her house. 

“Now,” triumphantly thought Croft, “it matters 
not what Keswick decides to do, for I don’t need his 
assistance. An elderly angel in a purple sun-bonnet 
has come to my aid. She is about to do ever so 
much more for me than I could expect of him, and 
I prefer her assistance to that of my rival. Alto¬ 
gether it is the most unexpected piece of good 
luck.” 

After breakfast there came to Lawrence the op¬ 
portunity of a private conference with Mrs Null. 
He was standing alone on the porch when she came 
out of the door with her hat on and a basket in her 
hand, and said she was going to see a very old col¬ 
ored woman who lived in the neighborhood, who 
was considered a very interesting personage; and 
perhaps he would like'to go there with her. Noth¬ 
ing could suit Croft better than this, and off they 
started. 

As soon as they were outside the yard gate the 
lady remarked : “ I have been trying hard to give you 
a chance to talk to me when the others were not by. 
I knew you must be perfectly wild to ask me what 
this all meant; why I never told you that Mr Kes¬ 
wick was my cousin, and the rest of it.” 


i6o The Late Mrs Null, 

“ I can’t say,” said Lawrence, “ that I am abso¬ 
lutely untamed and ferocious in regard to the matter, 
but I do really wish very much that you would give 
me some explanation of your very odd doings. In 
fact, that is the only thing that now keeps me here.” 

“I thought so,” said Mrs NulL “As I supposed 
you had got through with your business with Junius, 
I did not wish to detain you here any longer than 
was necessary.” 

“ Thank you,” said Lawrence. 

“You are welcome,” she said. “And when I saw 
you standing on the porch by yourself, the idea of 
being generous to old Aunt Patsy came into my 
mind. And here we are. Now, what do you want 
to know first ? ” 

“Well,” said Mr Croft, “I would like very much 
to know how a young lady like you came to be Mr 
Candy’s cashier.” 

“ I supposed you would want to know that,” she 
said. “ It’s a dreadfully long story, and as it is a 
strictly family matter I had almost made up my 
mind last night that I ought not to tell it to you at 
all, but as I don’t know how*'much you are mixed 
up with the family, I afterward thought it best, for 
my own sake, to explain the matter to you. So I 
will give you the principal points. My mother was 
a sister of Mrs Keswick, and Junius’ mother was an¬ 
other sister. Both his parents died when he was a 
boy, and Aunt Keswick brought him up. My 
mother died here when I was quite small, and I 
stayed until I was eight years old. Aunt Keswick 


The Late Mrs Ntill. 


i6i 


and my father were not very good friends, and when 
she came to look upon me as entirely her own child, 
and wished to deprive him of all rights and privileges 
as a parent, he resented it very much, and, at last, 
took me away. I don’t remember exactly how this 
was done, but I know there was a tremendous quar¬ 
rel, and my father and aunt never met again. 

“He took me to New York; and there we lived , 
very happily until about two years ago, when my 
father died. He was a lawyer by profession, but 
at that time held a salaried position in a railroad 
company, and when he died, of course our income 
ceased. The money that was left did not last very 
long, and then I had to decide what I was to do. 
It would have been natural for me to go to my only 
relatives. Aunt Keswick and Junius. But my father 
had been so opposed to my aunt having anything to 
do with me that I could not bear to go to her. He 
had really been so much afraid that she would try 
to win me away from him, or in some way gain pos¬ 
session of me, that he would not even let her know 
our address, and never answered the few letters 
from her which reached him, and which he told 
me were nothing but demands that her sister’s child 
should be given back to her. Junius had written to 
me, how many times I do not know, but two letters 
had come to me that were very good and affection¬ 
ate, quite different from my aunt’s, but even these 
my father would not let me answer; it would be all 
the same thing, he said, as if I opened communica¬ 
tion with my Aunt Keswick. 


II 


i 62 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“ Therefore, out of respect to my father, and also 
in accordance with my own wishes, I gave up all idea 
of coming down here, and went to work to support 
myself. I tried several things, and, at last, through 
a friend of my father, who was a regular customer 
of Mr Candy, I got the position of cashier in the 
Information Shop. It was an awfully queer place, 
but the work was very easy, and I soon got used to 
it. Then you came making inquiries for an address. 
At first I did not know that the person you wanted 
was Junius Keswick and my cousin, but after I be¬ 
gan to look into the matter I found that it must be 
he who you were after. Then I became very much 
troubled, for I liked Junius, who was the only one 
of my blood whom I had any reason to care for; 
and when one sees a person setting a detective—for 
it is all the same thing—upon the track of another 
person, one is very apt to think that some harm is 
intended to the person that is being looked up. I 
did not know what business Junius was in, nor what 
his condition was, but even if he had been doing 
wrong, I did not wish you to find him until I had 
first seen him, and then, if I found you could do him 
any harm, I would warn him to keep out of your 
way.” 

“ Do you think that was fair treatment of me ? ” 
asked Croft. 

“You were nothing to me, and Junius was a great 
deal,” she answered. “ And yet I think I was fair, 
enough. The only money you paid was what Mr 
Candy charged; and when I spoke of receiving 


The Late Mrs Null. 


163 


money for my services when the affair was finished 
I only did it that it might all be more business like, 
and that you should not drop me and set somebody 
else looking after Junius. That was the great thing 
I was afraid of, so I did all I could to make you 
satisfied with me.’' 

“ I don’t see how your conscience could allow you 
to do all this,” said Croft. 

“ My conscience was very much pleased with me,” 
was the answer. “ What I did was a stratagem, and 
perfectly fair too. If I had found that it was right 
for you to see Junius, I would have done everything 
I could to help you communicate with him. But 
when I did at last see him, down you swooped upon 
us before I had an opportunity of saying a word 
about you.” 

‘‘Your marriage was a very fortunate thing for 
you,” said Mr Croft, “ for if it had not been for that 
I should never have allowed you to go about the 
country looking up a.gentleman in my behalf. But 
how did you get over your repugnance to your 
aunt ?” 

“ I didn’t get over it,” she said, “ I conquered it, 
for I found that this was the most likely place to 
meet Junius. And Aunt Keswick has certainly 
treated me in the kindest manner, although she is 
very angry about Mr Null. But when I first came 
and she did not know who I was, she behaved in 
the most extraordinary manner.” 

“ What did she do ?” asked Croft. 

“Never you mind,” she answered, with a little 


164 


The Late Mrs Null, 


laugh. “You can’t expect to know all the family 
affairs.” 

They had now arrived at Aunt Patsy’s cabin, and 
Mrs Null entered, followed at a little distance by 
Croft. The old woman had seen them as they were 
walking along the road, and her little black eyes 
sparkled with peculiar animation behind her great 
spectacles. Her granddaughter happened not to 
be at home, but Aunt Patsy got up, and with her 
apron rubbed off the bottoms of two chairs, which 
she placed in convenient positions for her expected 
visitors. When they came in they found her in a 
very perturbed condition. She answered Mrs Null’s 
questions with a very few words and a great many 
grunts, and kept her eyes fixed nearly all the time 
upon Mr Croft, endeavoring to find out, perhaps, if 
he had yet been subjected to any kind of conjuring. 

When all the questions which young people gen¬ 
erally put to old servants had been asked by Mrs 
Null, and Croft had made as many remarks as might 
have been expected of him in regard to the age and 
recollections of this interesting old negress. Aunt 
Patsy began to be much more disturbed, fearing 
that the interview was about to come to an end. 
She actually got up and went to the back door to 
look for Eliza. 

“Do you want her?” anxiously inquired Mrs 
Null, going to the old woman’s side. 

“ Yaas, I wants her,” said Aunt Patsy. “ I ’spec’ 
she at Aggy’s house—dat cabin ober dar—but I 
can’t holler loud ’nuf to make her h’yere me.” 


The Late Mrs NulL 165 

“ ril run over there and tell her you want her,” 
said Mrs Null, stepping out of the door. 

“ Dat’s a good chile,” said Aunt Patsy, with more 
warmth than she had yet exhibited. “ Dat’s your 
own mudder’s good chile! ” And then she turned 
quickly into the room. 

Croft had risen as if he were about to follow Mrs 
Null, or, at least, to see where she had gone. But 
Aunt Patsy stopped him. “Jus’ you stay h’yar 
one little minute,” she said, hurriedly. “ I got one 
word to say to you, sah.” And she stood up before 
him as erect as she could, fixing her great spectacles 
directly upon him. “You look out, sah, fur ole 
miss,” she said, in a voice, naturally shrill, but now 
heavily handicapped by age and emotion, “ole Miss 
Keswick, 1 means. She boun’ to do you harm, sah. 
She tole me so wid her own mouf.” 

“ Mrs Keswick ! ” exclaimed Croft. “ Why, you 
must be mistaken, good aunty. She can have no 
ill feelings towards me.” 

“ Don’ you b’lieve dat! ” ?aid the old woman. 
“ Don’ you b’lieve one word ob dat! She hate you, 
sah, she hate you ! She not gwine to tell you dat. 
She make you think she like you fus’ rate, an’ den de 
nex’ thing you knows, she kunjer you, an’ shribble 
up de siners ob your legs, an’ gib you mis’ry in your 
back, wot you neber git rid of no moh’. Can’t tell 
you nuffin’ else now, for h’yar comes Miss Annie,” 
she added hurriedly, and, stepping to the bedside, 
she drew from under the mattrass a pair of little blue 
shoes, tied together by their strings. “ Jes’ you take 


The Late Mrs Null. 


166 

dese h’yar shoes,” she said, “ an’ ef eber you think 
ole miss gwine ter kunjer you, jes’ you hoi’ up dem 
shoes right afore her face. Dar now, stuff ’em in 
your pocket. Don’ you tell Miss Annie wot I 
done say to you. ’Member dat, sah. It ud kill her, 
shuh.” 

At this moment Mrs Null entered, just as the 
shoes had been slipped into the side-pocket of Mr 
Croft’s coat by the old woman. And as she did so, 
she whispered, in a tone that could not but have its 
effect upon him, Now, nebber tell her, honey.” 

“ Here is Eliza,” said Mrs Null, as she came in, fol¬ 
lowed by the great granddaughter. “ And I think,” 
she said to Mr Croft, “ it is time for us to go. Good¬ 
bye, Aunt Patsy. You can send back the basket by 
Eliza.” 

When the two left the cabin, Croft walked 
thoughtfully for a few moments, wondering what in 
the world the old woman could have meant by her 
strange words and gift to him. Concluding, how¬ 
ever, that they could have been nothing but the 
drivelings of weak-minded old age, he dismissed 
them from his mind and turned his attention to his 
companion. “We were speaking,” he said, “of Mr 
Null. Do you expect him shortly?” 

“ Well, no,’’said the lady. “ I can’t say that I do,” 

“ That is odd,” said Lawrence. “ I thought this 
was your wedding journey.” 

“ So it is, in a measure,” said she, “ but there is no 
necessity of his coming here. Didn’t I tell you that 
my aunt was opposed to the marriage ? ” 


The Late Mrs NulL 167 

“ But she might as well make up her mind to it 
now,” he said. 

“ She is not in the habit of making up her mind to 
things she don’t like. Do you know,” she added, 
looking around with a half smile, as if she took pleas¬ 
ure in astonishing him, “ that Aunt Keswick is going 
to try to have us divorced ? ” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Croft. Divorced I Is there 
any ground for it ? ” 

“ She has other matrimonial plans for me, that’s 
all.” 

“ What an extraordinary individual she must be ! ” 
he exclaimed. But she*can never carry out such a 
ridiculous scheme as that.” 

“ I don’t know,” she said. “ She has already con¬ 
sulted Mr Brandon on the subject.” 

What nonsense ! ” cried Croft. “ If you and Mr 
Null are satisfied, nobody else has anything to do 
with it.” 

“ Mr Null and I are of one mind,” said she, “ and 
agree perfectly. But don’t you think it is a terrible 
thing to know you must always face an irritated 
aunt ?” 

“ Oh,” said Croft, looking around at her very 
coldly and sternly, “ I begin to see. I suppose a 
separation would improve your prospects in life. 
But it can’t be done if your husband is opposed 
to it.” 

“ Mr Croft,” said the lady, her face flushing a 
good deal, “ you have no right to speak to me in 
that way, and attribute such motives to me. No 


i68 


The Late Mrs Null. 


matter whom I had married, I would never give him 
up for the sake of money, or a farm, or anything 
you think my aunt could give me.” 

I beg your pardon,” said Croft, “ if I made a 
mistake, but I don’t see what else I could infer from 
your remarks.” 

“ My remarks,” said she, “ were,—well, they have 
a different meaning from what you supposed.” She 
walked on in silence for a few moments, and then, 
looking up to her companion, she said : “ I have 
a great mind to tell you something, if you will 
promise, at least for the present, not to breathe it to 
a living soul.” 

Instantly the lookout on the bow of Lawrence 
Croft’s life action called out: Breakers ahead ! ” 
and almost instantly its engine was stopped, and 
every faculty of its commander was on the alert. 
“ I do not know,” he said, “ that I am entitled to 
your confidence. Would it be of any advantage to 
you to tell me what you propose ? ” 

It would be of advantage, and you are entitled,” 
she added quickly. “ It is about Mr Null, and you 
ought to know it, for you instigated my wedded life.” 

“ I instigated ! ”—exclaimed Mr Croft. And then 
he stopped short, both in his speech and walk. 

‘Wes,” said the lady, stopping also, and turning 
to face him, “you did, and you ought to remember 
it. You said if I had a husband to travel about 
with me you would like very much to employ me in 
the search for Mr Keswick, and it was solely on that 
account that I went and got married.” 


The Late Mrs Null. 


169 


Observing the look of blank and utter amazement 
on his face, she smiled, and said : “ Please don’t look 
so horribly astonished. Mr Null is void.” 

As she made this remark the lady looked up at 
her companion with a smile and an expression 
of curiosity as to how he would take the announce¬ 
ment. Lawrence gazed blankly at her for a mo¬ 
ment, and then he broke into a laugh. ‘‘You don’t 
mean to say,” he exclaimed, “ that Mr Null is an 
imaginary being? ” 

“ Entirely so,” she replied. “ My dear Freddy 
is nothing but a fanciful idea, with no attribute 
whatever except the name.” 

"'You are a most extraordinary young person,” 
said Lawrence; “ almost as extraordinary as your 
aunt. What in the world made you think of doing 
such a thing? and why do you wish to keep up the 
delusion among your relatives, even so far as to 
drive your aunt to the point of getting you divorced 
from your airy husband ? ” And he laughed again. 

“ I told you how I came to think of it,” she said, 
as they walked on again. “ It was very plain that 
if I wanted to travel about as your agent I must be 
married, and I have found a husband quite a pro¬ 
tection and an advantage, even when he doesn’t go 
about with me; and as to keeping up the delusion, 
as you call it, in my own family, I have found that 
to be absolutely necessary, at least for the present. 
My aunt, even when I was a little girl, determined 
to take my marriage into her own hands ; and since I 
have returned to her, this desire has come up again 


The Late Mrs NulL 


170 

in the most astonishing way. It is her principal 
subject of conversation with me. Were it not for 
the protection which my dear Freddy Null gives 
me I should be thrown bodily into the arms of the 
person whom my aunt has selected, and he would 
be obliged to take me, whether he wanted to or not, 
or be cast forth forever. So you see how important 
it is that my aunt should think I am married; and 
I do hope you will not tell anybody about Mr 
Null.” 

Of course I will keep your secret,” said Croft. 
“You may rely upon that; but don’t you think— 
do you believe that this sort of thing is altogether 
right ? ” 

She did not answer for a few moments, and then 
she said: “ I suppose you must consider me a very 
deceptive sort of person, but you should remember 
that these things were not done for my own good, 
and, as far as I can see, they were the only things 
that could be done. Do you suppose I was going 
to let you pounce down on my cousin and do him 
some injury, for, as you kept your object such a 
secret, I did not suppose it could be anything but an 
injury you intended him.” 

“ A fine opinion of me ! ” said Croft. 

“And then, do you suppose,” she continued, 
“ that I would allow my aunt to quarrel with Junius 
and disinherit him, as she says she will, should he 
decline to marry me. I expected to drop my mar¬ 
ried name when I came here, but I had not been 
with my aunt fifteen minutes before I saw that it 


The Late Mrs Null. 


171 


would never do for me to be a single woman while I 
stayed with her; and so I kept my Freddy by me. 
I did not intend, at all, to tell you all these things 
about my cousin, and I only did it because I did not 
wish you to think that I was a sly, mean creature, 
deceiving others for my own good.” 

“Well,” said Croft, “although I can’t say you are 
right in making your relatives believe you are mar¬ 
ried when you are not, still I see you had very fair 
reasons for what you did, and you certainly showed 
a great deal of ingenuity and pluck in carrying out 
your remarkable schemes. By-the-way,” he con¬ 
tinued, somewhat hesitatingly, “ I am in your debt 
for your services to me.” 

“Not a bit of it!” she exclaimed quickly. “I 
never did a thing for you. It was all for myself, or, 
rather, for my cousin. The only money due was 
that which you paid to Mr Candy before I took 
charge of the matter.” 

Lawrence felt that this was rather a sore subject 
with his companion, and he dropped it. “ Do you 
still hold the position of cashier in the Information 
Shop ? ” 

“No,” she said. “When I started out on my 
lonely wedding tour I gave up that, and if I should 
go back to New York, I do not think I should want 
to take it again.” 

“ Do you propose soon to return to New York? ” 
he asked. 

“No; at least I have made no plans in regard 
to it. I think it would grieve my aunt very much 


172 


The Late Mrs Null. 


✓ 


if I were to go away from her now, and as long as I 
have Mr Null to protect me from her matrimonial 
schemes, I am glad to stay with her. She is very 
kind to me.” 

“ I think you are entirely right in deciding to stay 
here,” he said, looking around at her, and contrast¬ 
ing in his mind the bright-faced, and somewhat 
plump young person walking beside him with the 
thin-faced girl in black whom he had seen behind 
the cashier’s desk. 

‘‘ Now,” said she, with a vivacious little laugh, “ I 
have poured out my whole soul before you, and, in 
return, I want you to gratify a curiosity which is 
fairly eating me up. Why were you so anxious to 
find my Cousin Junius? And how did you happen 
to come here the very day after he arrived ? And, 
more than that, how was it that you had seen him 
at Midbranch so recently? You were talking about 
it last night. It couldn’t have been my letter from 
Hewlett’s that brought you down here?” 

“No,” said Lawrence, “my meeting with Mr 
Keswick at Midbranch was entirely accidental. 
When I arrived there, a few days ago, I had no 
reason to suppose that I should meet him. But I 
must ask you to excuse me from giving my reasons 
for wishing to find your cousin, and for coming to 
see him here. The matter between us has now 
become one of no importance, and will be dropped.” 

The lady’s face flushed. “ Oh, indeed! ” she said.' 
And during the short remainder of their walk to 
the house she made no further remark. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


When Lawrence and his companion reached the 
house, they found on the porch Mrs Keswick and 
her nephew ; and, after a little general conversation, 
the latter remarked to Mr Croft that he had found 
it would not be in his power to attend to that 
matter he had spoken of; to which Croft replied 
that he was very much obliged to him for thinking 
of it, and that it was of no consequence at all, as he 
would probably make other arrangements. He then 
stated that he would be obliged to return to the 
Green Sulphur Springs that day, and that, as it was 
a long ride, he would like to start as soon as his 
horse could be brought to him. But this procedure 
was. condemned utterly by the old lady, who insisted 
that Mr Croft should not leave until after dinner, 
which meal should be served earlier than usual in 
order to give him plenty of time to get to the 
Springs before dark, and as Lawrence had nothing 
to oppose to her very urgent protest, he consented 
to stay. Before dinner was ready he found out 
why the protest was made. The old lady took him 
aside and made inquiries of him in regard to Mr 
Null. He had already informed her that he was 
not acquainted with that gentleman, but she thought, 
as Mr Croft seemed to be going about the country 


174 


The Late Mrs NtilL 


a good deal, he might possibly meet with her niece’s 
husband; and, if he should do so, she would be 
very glad to have him become acquainted with him. 

To this Lawrence replied with much gravity that 
he would be happy to do so. 

^‘Mr Null has not yet come to my house,” said 
Mrs Keswick, “ and it is very natural that one 
should desire to know the husband of her only niece 
who is, or should be, the same as a daughter to 
her.” 

“ A very natural wish indeed,” said Lawrence. 

I am not quite sure in what business Mr Null is 
engaged,” she continued, “ and, although I asked 
my niece about it, she answered in a very evasive 
way, which makes me think his occupation is one 
she is not proud of. I have reason to suppose, 
however, that he is an agent for the sale of some 
fertilizing compound.” 

At this Lawrence could not help smiling very 
broadly. 

It may appear very odd and ridiculous to you,” 
she said, “ that a person connected with my family 
should be engaged in a business like that, for those 
fertilizers, as you ought to know, are all humbugs 
of the vilest kind. The only time I bought any it 
took my whole wheat crop to pay for it, and as for 
the clover I got afterward, a grasshopper could have 
eaten the whole of it. I am afraid he didn’t tell 
her his business before he married her, and I’m glad 
she’s ashamed of it. As far as I can find out, it does 
not seem as if Mr Null has any intention of coming 


The Late Mrs Null, 


175 


here for some time; and, as I said before, I do very 
much want to know something about him—that is 
from a disinterested outsider. One cannot expect 
a recently married young woman to give a correct 
account of her husband.” 

“ I do not believe,” said Mr Croft, “ that there is 
any probability that I shall ever meet the gentleman 
—our walks in life being so different.” 

“ I should hope so, indeed! ” interrupted Mrs 
Keswick. ‘‘ But people of all sorts do run across 
each other.” 

“ But if I do meet with him,” he continued, “ I 
shall take great pleasure in giving you my impres¬ 
sions by letter, or in person, of your nephew-in-law.” 

“ Don’t call him that! ” exclaimed the old lady 
with much asperity. “ I don’t acknowledge the 
title. But I won’t say any more about him,” with 
a grim smile, “ or you may think I don’t like him.” 

‘‘ Some of these days,” he said, “ you may come to 
be of the opinion that he is exactly the husband 
you would wish your niece to have.” 

“Never!” she cried. “If he were an angel in 
broadcloth. But I mustn’t talk about these things. 
I mentioned Mr Null to you because you are the 
only person of my acquaintance who, I suppose, is 
likely to meet with him. In regard to that little 
company I spoke of to you, I have not quite made 
up my mind about it, and, therefore, haven’t men¬ 
tioned it ; but if I carry out the plan I will’write to 
you at the Springs, and shall certainly expect you 
to be one of us.” 


The Late Mrs Null, 


176 

“ That would give me great pleasure,” said Law¬ 
rence, in a tone which indicated to the quick brain 
of the old lady that he would like to make a con¬ 
dition, but was too polite to do so. 

“ If Miss March should agree to come,” she said, 
“ it might be pleasant for you to make one of her 
party and ride over at the same time. However, Til 
let you know if she is coming, and then you can join 
her or not, as suits your convenience.” 

Thank you very much,” said Lawrence, in a tone 
which betrayed no reserves. 

As he rode away that afternoon, Lawrence Croft, 
as his habit was on such occasions, revolved in his 
mind what he had heard and said and done during 
this little visit to the Keswick family. “Nothing 
could have turned out better,” he thought. “ To be 
sure the young man could not or would not be of 
any assistance to me, which is probably what I ought 
to have expected, but the strong-tempered old lady, 
his aunt, promises to be of tenfold more service than 
he could possibly be. As to that very odd young 
lady, Mrs Keswick’s niece, I imagine that she does 
not regard me very favorably, for she was quite cool 
after I refused to let her into the secret of my desire 
to find her cousin, but as I did not ask for her confi¬ 
dences, she had no right to expect a return for them. 
And, by-the-way, it’s odd how many confidences have 
been reposed in me since I’ve been down here. 
Keswick begins it; then old Brandon takes up the 
strain ; after that Mr Candy’s ex-cashier tells me the 
story of her life, and entrusts me with the secret of 


The Late Mrs Null, 


177 


her marriage with a man of wind—that most useful 
Mr Null; after that, her aunt makes me understand 
how much she hates Mr Null, and how she would 
like me to find out something disreputable about 
him; and then—, by George! I forgot the old 
negro woman in the cabin! ” At this he put his 
hand in the side-pocket of his coat, and drew out 
the pair of little blue shoes. “ Why in the name 
of common sense did the old hag give me these? 
And why should she suppose that Mrs Keswick 
intended me a harm ? The old lady never saw or 
heard of me until yesterday, and her manner cer¬ 
tainly indicated no dislike of me. But, of course. 
Aunt Patsy’s brain is cracked, and she didn’t know 
what she was talking about. I shall keep the shoes, 
however, and if ever the venerable purple sun- 
bonnet runs afoul of me, I shall hold them up before 
it and see what happens.” 

And so, very well satisfied with the result of his 
visit to Howlett’s, he rode on to the Green Sulphur 
Springs. 

On the afternoon of the next day Miss March re¬ 
ceived an .invitation from Mrs Keswick to spend 
a few days with her, and make the acquaintance 
of her niece who had recently returned to the 
home of her childhood. The letter, for it was 
much more than a note of invitation, was cordial, 
and in parts pathetic. It dwelt upon the sundered 
pleasant relations of the two families, and expressed 
the hope that Mr Brandon’s visit to her might be 
the beginning of a renewal of the old intimacy. 


12 


178 


The Late Mrs NulL 


Mrs Keswick took occasion to incidentally mention 
that the house would be particularly dull for her 
niece just now, as Junius was on the point of start¬ 
ing for Washington, where he would be detained 
some weeks on business; and she hoped, most earn¬ 
estly, that Miss Roberta would accept this invita¬ 
tion to make her acquaintance and that of her 
niece ; and she designated Thursday of the follow¬ 
ing week as the day on which she would like her to 
come. 

As may reasonably be supposed, this letter greatly 
astonished Miss March, who carried it to her uncle, 
and asked him to explain, if he could, what it meant. 
The old gentleman was a good deal surprised when 
he read it; but it delighted him in a far greater 
degree. He perceived in it the first fruits of his 
diplomacy. Mrs Keswick saw that it would be to 
her interest, for a time at least, to make friends 
with him ; and this was the way she took to do it. 
She would not come to Midbranch herself, and bring 
the niece, but she would have Roberta come to her. 
In the pathos and cordiality Mr Brandon believed 
not at all. What the old hypocrite probably wanted 
was,to enlist his grateful sympathy in that ridiculous 
divorce case. But, whatever her motives might 
be, he would be very glad to have his niece go to 
her; for if anything could make an impression upon 
that time-hardened and seasoned old chopping-block 
of a woman, it was Roberta’s personal influence. 
If Mrs Keswick should come to know Roberta, 
that knowledge would do more than anything else 


The Late Mrs Null. 


179 


in the world to remove her objections to the mar¬ 
riage he so greatly desired. 

He said nothing of all this to his niece ; but he 
most earnestly counselled her to accept the invita¬ 
tion and make a visit to the two ladies. Of course 
Roberta did not care to go, but as her uncle ap¬ 
peared to take the matter so much to heart, she 
consented to gratify him, and wrote an acceptance. 
She found, also, when she had thought more on the 
matter, that she had a good deal of curiosity to see 
this Mrs Keswick, of whom she had heard so much, 
and who had had such an important influence on 
her life. 


CHAPTER XV. 


On the afternoon of the day on which Mrs Kes¬ 
wick’s letter arrived at Midbranch, Peggy had great 
news to communicate to Aunt Judy, the cook: 

Miss Rob’s gwine to Mahs’ Junius’house in de 
kerridge, an’ I’s gwine ’long wid her to set in front 
wid Sam.” 

Mahs’ Junius aint got no house,” said Aunt 
Judy, turning around very suddenly. “Does you 
mean she gwine ter old Miss Keswick’s ? ” 

“Yaas,” answered Peggy. 

“Well, den, why don’ you say so? Dat aint 
Mahs’ Junius’ house nohow, though he lib dar as 
much as he lib anywhar. Wot she gwine dar fur?” 

“Gwine to git married, I reckon,” said Peggy. 

“Git out!” ejaculated Aunt Judy. “Wid you 
fur bride’maid ? ” 

“ Dunno,” answered Peggy. “She done tole me 
she didn’t think she’d have much use fur me, but 
Mahs’ Robert, he said it were too far fur her to go 
widout a maid; but ef she want me fur bride’maid 
I’ll do dat too.” 

“You bawn fool!” shouted Aunt Judy. “You 
ain’t got sense ’nuf to hook the frocks ob de brides¬ 
maids. An dat’s all fool talk about Miss-Rob gwine 


The Late Mrs Null, 


i8i 


dar to be married. When she an’ Mahs’ Junius hab 
de weddin’, dey’ll hab it h’yar, ob course. She 
gwine to see ole Miss Keswick, coz dat’s de way de 
fus’ fam’lies alius does afore dey hab dere weddin’. 
I’s pow’ful glad she’s gwine dar, instid ob ole Miss 
Keswick cornin’ h’yar. I don’ wan’ her kunjerin’ 
me, an’ she’d do dat as quick as winkin’ ef de batter 
bread’s a leetle burned, or dar’s too much salt in de 
soup. You’s got to keep youse’f mighty straight, 
you Peggy, when you gits whar ole Miss Keswick is. 
Don’ you come none ob your fool tricks, or she kum 
jer you, an’ one ob your legs curl up like a pig’s tail, 
an’ neber uncurl no moh’. How you like dat ? ” 

To this Peggy made no reply, but with her eyes 
steadfastly fixed on Aunt Judy, and her lower jaw 
very much dropped, she mentally resolved to keep 
herself as straight as possible during her stay at the 
Keswick’s. 

“ Dar’s ole Aun’ Patsy,” continued the speaker. 
“ It’s a mighty long time sence I’ve seen Aun’ 
Patsy. Dat was when I went ober dar wid Miss 
Rob’s mudder when de two fam’lys was fren’s. I 
was her maid, an’ went wid her jes as Mahs’ Robert 
wants you ter go ’long wid Miss Rob. He ain’t 
gwine to furgit how they did in de ole times when 
de ladies went visitin’ in dere kerridges fur to stay 
free, four days. Aim’ Patsy were pow’ful ole den, 
but she didn’t die soon ’nuf, an’ ole Miss Keswick 
she kunjer her, an’ now she can’t die at all.” 

Neber die! ” ejaculated Peggy. 

“Neber die, nohow!” answered Aunt Judy. 


i 82 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“ Mighty offen she thought she gwine to die but 
’twarnt no use. She can’t do it. An’ de las’ time I 
hear ob her, she alibe yit, jes’ de same as eber. An’ 
dar was Mahs’ John Keswick. She cunjer him coz 
he rode de gray colt to de Coht House when she 
done tole him to let dat gray colt alone,, coz ’twarnt 
hisen but hern, an’ he go shoot hese’f dead by de 
gate pos’. You’s got to go fru by dat pos’ when 
you go inter de gate.” 

“ Dat same pos’! ” cried Peggy. 

“Yaas,”said Aunt Judy, “dat same one. An’ 
dey tells me dat on third Chewsdays, which is Coht 
day, de same as when he took de gray colt, as soon 
as it git dark he ghos’ climb up to de top ob dat 
pos’, an’ set dar all night.” 

With a conjuring old woman in the house, and a 
monthly ghost on the gate-post outside, the Kes¬ 
wick residence did not appear as attractive to Peggy 
as it had done before, but she mentally determined 
that while she was there she would be very careful 
to look out sharp for herself, a performance for 
which she was very well adapted. 

It was on a pleasant autumn morning that Mr 
Brandon very carefully ensconced his niece in the 
family carriage, with Peggy and a trusty negro man, 
Sam, on the outside front seat. “ I would gladly 
go with you, my dear,” he said, “ even without the 
formality of an invitation, but it is far better for 
you to go by yourself. My very presence would 
provoke an antagonism in the old lady, while with 
you, personally, it is impossible that any such feeling 


The Late Mrs Null, 183 

should exist. I hope your visit may do away with 
all ill feeling between our families.” 

I want you to understand, uncle,” said Miss 
Roberta, “ that I am making this visit almost en¬ 
tirely to please you, and I shall do everything in 
my power to make Mrs Keswick feel that you and 
I are perfectly well disposed toward her ; but you 
can’t expect me to exhibit any great warmth of 
friendship toward a person who once used such 
remarkable and violent expressions in regard to 
me.” 

“ But those feelings, my dear,” said Mr Brandon, 
“if we are to believe Mrs Keswick’s letter, have 
entirely disappeared.” 

“ It is quite natural that they should do so,” said 
Roberta, “ as there is no longer any reason for them. 
And there is another thing I want to impress on 
your mind. Uncle Robert, you must expect no re¬ 
sult from this visit except a renewal of amity be¬ 
tween yourself and Mrs Keswick.” 

“ I understand it perfectly,” said the old gentle¬ 
man, feeling quite confident that if his family and 
Mrs Keswick should once again become friendly, 
the main object of his desires would not be difificult 
of accomplishment. “ And how, my dear, I will not 
detain you any longer. I hope you may have a very 
pleasant visit, and I advise you to cultivate that 
young Mrs Null, whom I take to be a very sensible 
and charming person.” And then he kissed her 
good-bye and shut the carriage door. 

.It was about the middle of the afternoon when 


184 


The Late Mrs Null, 


Sam drove through the outer Keswick gate, and 
Peggy, who had jumped down to open said gate, 
had made herself positively sure that, at present, 
there was no ghost sitting upon the post. Before 
she reached the house, Roberta began to wonder 
a good deal if she should find Mrs Keswick the 
woman she had pictured in her mind. But when 
the carriage drew up in front of the porch there 
came out to meet her, not the mistress of the es¬ 
tate, but a much younger lady, who tripped down 
the steps and reached Roberta as she descended 
from the carriage. 

^‘We are very glad to see you. Miss March,” she 
said. My aunt is not here just now, but will be 
back directly.” 

“This is Mrs Null, isn’t it?’’said Roberta, and 
as the other smiled and answered with a slight flush 
that it was, Roberta stooped just the little that was 
necessary, and kissed her. Mrs Keswick’s niece 
had not expected so warm a greeting from this 
lady, to whom she was almost a stranger, and in¬ 
stantly she said to herself: “In that kiss Freddy 
dies to you.” For some days she had been turning 
over and over in her mind the question whether or 
not she should tell Roberta March that she was not 
Mrs Null. She greatly disliked keeping up the de¬ 
ception where it was not necessary, and with Rob¬ 
erta, if she would keep the secret, there was no need 
of this aerial matrimony. Besides her natural de¬ 
sire to confide in a person of her own sex and age, 
she did not wish Mr Croft to be the only one who 


The Late Mrs Null. 


185 


shared her secret; and so she had determined that her 
decision would depend on what sort of girl Roberta 
proved to be. ‘‘ If 1 like her I’ll tell her; if I don’t, 
I won’t,” was the final decision. And when Roberta 
March looked down upon her with her beautiful 
eyes and kissed her, Freddy Null departed this life 
so far as those two were concerned. 

Mrs Keswick had, apparently, made a very great 
miscalculation in regard to the probable time of arrival 
of her guest, for Miss March and Peggy, and even Sam 
and the horses, had been properly received and cared 
for, and Miss March had been sitting in the parlor 
for some time, and still the old lady did not come 
into the house. Her niece had grown very anx¬ 
ious about this absence, and had begun to fear that 
her aunt had treated Miss March as she had treated 
her on her arrival, and had gone away to stay. 
But Plez, whom she had sent to tell his mistress 
that her visitor was in the house, returned with 
the information that “ ole miss ” was in one of the 
lower fields directing some men who were digging 
a ditch, and that she would return to the house in a 
very short time. Thus assured that no permanent 
absence was intended, she went into the parlor to en¬ 
tertain Miss March, and to explain, as well as she 
could, the state of affairs; when, as she entered the 
door, she saw that lady suddenly arise and look stead¬ 
fastly out of the window. 

“Can that be Mr Croft?” Miss March exclaimed. 

The younger girl made a dash forward and also 
looked out of the window. Yes, there was Mr Croft, 


i86 


The Late Mrs Null, 


riding across the yard toward the tree where horses 
were commonly tied. 

“Did you expect him?” asked Roberta, quickly. 

“ No more than I expected the man in the moon,” 
was the impulsive and honest answer of her compan¬ 
ion. 

“ I am very glad to see you, Mrs Null,” said Law¬ 
rence, when that lady met him on the porch. And 
when he was shown into the parlor, he greeted Miss 
March with much cordiality, but no surprise. But 
when he inquired after other members of the family, 
he was much surprised to find that Mr Keswick 
had gone to Washington. “ Was not this very unex¬ 
pected, Mrs Null?” he asked. 

“Why, no,” she answered. “Junius told us, al¬ 
most as soon as he came here, that he would have to 
be in Washington by the first of this week.” 

Mr Croft did not pursue this subject further, but 
presently remarked : “ Are you and I the first comers, 
Miss March ?” 

Roberta looked from one of her companions to 
the other, and remarked: “ I do not understand 
you.” 

Lawrence now perceived that he was treading a 
very uncertain and, perhaps, dangerous path of con¬ 
versation, and the sooner he got out of it the better; 
but, before he could decide what answer to make, a 
silent and stealthy figure appeared at the door, beck¬ 
oning and nodding in a very mysterious way. This 
proved to be the plump black maid, Letty, who, hav¬ 
ing attracted the attention of the company, whis- 


The Late Mrs Null. 187 

pered loudly, “ Miss Annie ! ” whereupon that young 
lady immediately left the room. 

“ What other comers did you expect ? ” then 
asked Roberta of Mr Croft. 

I certainly supposed there would be a small 
company here,” he said, “ probably neighborhood 
people, but if I was mistaken, of course I don’t 
wish to say anything more about it to the family.” 

“Were you invited yourself?” asked Roberta. 

Croft wished very much that he could say .that 
he had accidentally dropped in. But this he could 
not do, and he answered that Mrs Keswick asked 
him to come about this time. He did not consider 
it necessary to add that she had written to him at 
the Springs, renewing her invitation very earnestly, 
and mentioning that Miss March had consented to 
make one of the party. 

This was as far as Roberta saw fit to continue the 
subject, on the present occasion; and she began to 
talk about the charming weather, and the pretty 
way in which the foliage was reddening on the side 
of a hill opposite the window. Mr Croft was de¬ 
lighted to enter into this new channel of speech, 
and discussed with considerable fervor the attract¬ 
iveness of autumn in Virginia. 

Miss Annie found Letty in a very disturbed state 
of mind. The dinner had been postponed until the 
arrival of Miss March, and now it had been still 
further delayed by the non-arrival of the mistress 
of the house, and everything was becoming dried 
up, and unfit to eat. 


The Late Mrs Null, 


188 

“This will never do!’’ exclaimed Miss Annie. 
“ I will go myself and look for aunt. She must 
have forgotten the time of day, and everything 
else.” 

Putting on her hat she ran out of the back door, 
but she did not have to go very far, for she tound 
the old lady in the garden, earnestly regarding a 
bed of turnips. “ Where have you been, my dear 
aunt?” cried the girl. “ Miss March has been here 
ever, so long, and Mr Croft has come, and dinner has 
been waiting until it has all dried up. I was afraid 
that you had forgotten that company was coming 
to-day.” 

“Forgotten!” said the old lady, glaring at the 
turnips. “ It isn’t an easy thing to forget. I in¬ 
vited the girl, and I expected her to come, but I tell 
you, Annie, when I saw that carriage coming along 
the road, all the old feeling came back to me. I 
remembered what its owners had done to me and 
mine, and what they are still trying to do, and I felt 
I could not go into the house, and give her my hand. 
It would be like taking hold of a snake.” 

“A snake!” cried her niece, with much warmth. 
“ She is a lovely woman! And her coming shows 
what kindly feelings she has for you. But, no mat¬ 
ter what you think about it, aunt, you have asked 
her here, and you must come in and see her. Din¬ 
ner is waiting, and I don’t know what more to say 
about your absence.” 

“ Go in and have dinner,” said Mrs Keswick. 
“ Don’t wait for me. I’ll come in and see her 


The Late Mrs Null, 189 

after a while; but I haven’t yet got to the point of 
sitting down to the table and eating with her.” 

“Oh, aunt! ” exclaimed Annie, “you ought never 
to have asked her if you are going to treat her in 
this way! And what am I to say to her? What 
excuse am I to make? Are you not sick? Isn’t 
something the matter with you ?” 

“You can tell them I’m flustrated,” said the old 
lady, “ and that is all that’s the matter with me. 
But I’m not coming in to dinner, and there is no 
use of saying anything more about it.” • 

Annie looked at her, the tears of mortification 
still standing in her eyes. “ I suppose I must go 
and do the best I can,” she said, “ but, aunt, please 
tell me one thing. Did you invite any other people 
here ? Mr Croft spoke as if he expected to see other 
visitors, and if they ask anything more about it, I 
don’t know what to say.” 

“ The only other people I invited,” said the old 
lady with a grim grin, “ were the King of Norway, 
and the Prime Minister of Spain, and neither of 
them could come.” 

Annie said no more, but hurrying back to the 
house, she ordered dinner to be served immediately. 
At first the meal was not a very lively one. The 
young hostess pro tempore explained the absence of 
the mistress of the house by stating that she had had 
a nervous attack—v/hich was quite true—and that she 
begged them to excuse her until after dinner. The 
two guests expressed their regret at this unfortunate 
indisposition, but each felt a degree of embarrass- 


The Late Mrs Null. 


190 

ment at the absence of Mrs Keswick. Roberta, who 
had heard many stories of the old woman, guessed 
at the true reason, and if the distance had not been 
so great, she would have gone home that afternoon. 
Lawrence Croft, of course, could imagine no reason 
for the old lady’s absence, except the one that had 
been given them, but he suspected that there must 
be some other. He did his best, however, to make 
pleasant conversation; and Roberta, who began to 
have a tender feeling for the little lady at the head 
of the table, who, she could easily see, had been 
placed in an unpleasant position, seconded his efforts 
with such effect that, when the little party had con¬ 
cluded their dinner with a course of hot pound cake 
and cream sauce, they were chatting together quite 
sociably. 

In about ten minutes after they had all gone into 
the parlor. Miss Annie excused herself, and pres¬ 
ently returned with a message to Miss March that 
Mrs Keswick would be very glad to see her in an¬ 
other room. This.was a very natural message from 
an elderly lady, who was not well, but Roberta arose 
and walked out of the parlor with a feeling as if she 
were about to enter the cage of an erratic tigress. 
But she met with no such creature. She saw in the 
back room, into which she was ushered, a small old 
woman, dressed very plainly, who came forward to 
meet her, extending both hands, into one of which 
Roberta placed one of her own. 

“ I may as well say at once, Roberta March,” said 
Mrs Keswick, ‘‘ that the reason I didn’t come to 


The Late Mrs NtilL 


191 

meet you when you first arrived was, that I couldn’t 
get over, all of a sudden, the feelings I have had 
against your family for so many years.” 

Why then, Mrs Keswick,” said Roberta, very 
coldly, “ did you ask me to come ? ” 

Because I wanted you to come,” said Mrs Kes¬ 
wick, “ and because I thought I was stronger than I 
turned out to be ; but you must make allowances 
for the stiffness which gets into old people’s disposi¬ 
tions as well as their backs. I want you to under¬ 
stand, however, that I meant all I said in that letter, 
and I am very glad to see you. If anything in my 
conduct has seemed to you out of the way, you must 
set it down to the fact that I was making a very 
sudden turn, and starting out on a new track in 
which I hope we shall all keep for the rest of our 
lives.” 

Roberta could not help thinking that the sudden 
turn in the new track began with the visit of her 
uncle to this house, and that the old lady need not 
have inflicted upon her the disagreeable necessity 
of witnessing a hostess taking a very repulsive cold 
plunge; but all she said was that she hoped the 
families would now live together in friendly relations; 
and that she was sure that, if this were to be, it 
would give her uncle a great deal of pleasure. She 
very much wanted to ask Mrs Keswick how Mr 
Croft happened to be here at this time, but she felt 
that her very brief acquaintance with the lady would 
not warrant the discussion of a subject like that. 

“ She is very much the kind of woman I thought 


192 


The Late Mrs Null. 


she was,” said Roberta to herself, when, after some 
further hospitable remarks from Mrs Keswick, the 
two went to the parlor together to find Mr Crgft. 
But that gentleman, having been deserted by all 
the ladies, was walking up and down the greensward 
in front of the house, smoking a cigar. Mrs Kes¬ 
wick went out to him, and greeted him very cor¬ 
dially, begging him to excuse her for not being able 
to see him as soon as he came. 

Lawrence set all this aside in his politest manner, 
but declared himself very much disappointed in not 
seeing Mr Keswick, and also remarked that from what 
she had said to him on his last visit he had expected 
to find quite a little party here. 

“I am sorry,” said the old lady, ‘‘that Junius is 
away, for he would be very glad to see you, and it 
never came into my mind to mention to you that 
he was obliged to be in Washington at this time. 
And, as for the party, I thought afterwards that it 
would be a great deal cosier just to have a few per¬ 
sons here.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Lawrence, “ most certainly, a 
great deal cosier.” 

Mrs Keswick ate supper with her guests, and 
behaved very well. During the evening she sus¬ 
tained the main part of the conversation, giving 
the company a great many anecdotes and reminis- 
.cences of old times and old families, relating them 
in an odd and peculiar way that was very interest¬ 
ing, especially to Croft, to whom the subject matter 
was quite new. But, although her three companions 


The Late Mrs Null. 


193 


listened to the old lady with deferential attention, 
interspersed with appropriate observations, each one 
made her the object of severe mental scrutiny, and 
endeavored to discover the present object of her 
scheming old mind. Roberta was quite sure ^hat 
her invitation and that of Mr Croft was a piece 
of artful management on the part of the old lady, 
and imagined, though she was not quite sure about 
it, that it was intended as a bit of match-making. 
To get her married to somebody else, would be, of 
course, the best possible method of preventing her 
marrying Junius; and this, she had reason to believe, 
was the prime object of old Mrs Keswick’s exist¬ 
ence. But why should Mr Croft be chosen as the 
man with whom she was to be thrown. She had 
learned that the old lady had seen him before, but 
was quite certain that her acquaintance with him was 
slight. Could Junius have told his aunt about the 
friendship between herself and Mr Croft ? It was 
not like him, but a great many unlikely things take 
place. 

As for Lawrence, he knew very well there was a 
trick beneath his invitation, but he could not at all 
make out why it had been played. He had been 
given an admirable opportunity of offering himself 
to Miss March, but there was no reason, apparent 
to him, why this should have been done. 

Miss Annie, watching her aunt very carefully, 
and speaking but seldom, quite promptly made up 
her mind in regard to the matter. She knew very 
well the bitter opposition of the old woman to a 
13 


194 - 


The Late Mrs Null. 


marriage between Junius and Miss March; and saw, 
as plainly as she saw the lamp on* the table, that 
Roberta had been brought here on purpose to be 
sacrificed to Mr Croft. Everything had been made 
ready, the altar cleared, and, as well as the old lady’s 
grindstone would act, the knife sharpened. “ But,” 
said Miss Annie to herself, she needn’t suppose 
that I am going to sit quiet and see all this going 
on, with Junius away off there* in Washington, 
knowing nothing about any of it.” 

Miss Roberta retired quite early to her room, 
having been fatigued by her long drive, and she was 
just about to put out her light when she heard a 
little knock at the door. Opening it slightly, she 
saw there Junius Keswick’s cousin, who also ap¬ 
peared quite ready for bed. 

“May I come in for a minute?” said Annie. 

“ Certainly,” replied Miss March, admitting her, 
and closing the door after her. 

“ I have something to tell you,” said the younger 
lady, admiring as she spoke, the length of her com¬ 
panion’s braided hair. “ I intended to keep it 
until to-morrow, but since I came up stairs I felt I 
could not let you sleep a night under the same 
roof with me without knowing it. I am not Mrs 
Null.” 

“ What! ” exclaimed Roberta, in a tone which 
made Annie lift up her hands and implore her not 
to speak so loud, for fear that her aunt should hear 
her. “ I know she hasn’t come up stairs yet, for she 
sits up dreadfully late, but she can hear things, 


The Late Mrs Null, 


195 


almost anywhere. No, I am not Mrs Null. There 
is no such person as Mr Null, or, at least, he is a 
mere gaseous myth, whom I married for the sake of 
the protection his name gave me.” 

‘‘ This is the most extraordinary thing I ever 
heard,” said Roberta. “You must tell me all about 
it.” 

“ I don’t want to keep you up,” said Annie, “ you 
must be tired.” 

“ I am not tired,” said Roberta, “ for every par¬ 
ticle of fatigue has flown away.” And with this she 
made Annie sit down beside her on the lounge. 
“ Now you must tell me what this means,” she 
said. “ Can it be that your aunt does not know 
about it ? ” 

“ Indeed, she does not,” said Annie. “ I married 
Freddy Null in New York, for reasons which we 
need not talk of now, for that matter is all past and 
gone ; but when I came here, I found almost imme¬ 
diately, that he would be more necessary to me in 
this house than anywhere else.” 

“ I cannot imagine,” said Roberta, “ why a gaseous 
husband should be necessary to you here.” 

“ It is not a very easy thing to explain,” said the 
other, “ that is, it is easy enough, but——” 

“Oh,” said Roberta, catching the reason of her 
companion’s hesitation, “ I don’t think you ought to 
object to tell me your reason. Does it relate to 
your cousin Junius ? ” 

“ Well,” said Annie, “ not altogether, and not so 
much to him as to my aunt.” 



196 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“ I think I see,” said Roberta. “ A marriage be¬ 
tween you two would suit her very well. Are 
you afraid that she would try to force him on 
you ? ” 

“ Oh, no; ” said Annie, “ that would be bad enough, 
but it would not be so embarrassing, and so dread¬ 
fully unpleasant, as forcing me on him, and that is 
what aunt wants to do. And you can easily see 
that, in that case, I could not ‘stay in this house at 
all. I scarcely know my cousin as a man, my strong¬ 
est recollection of him being that of a big and very 
nice boy, who used to climb up in the apple-trees to 
get me apples, and then come down to the very low¬ 
est branch where he could drop the ripest ones 
right into my apron, and not bruise them. But, 
even if I had been acquainted with him all these 
years, and liked him ever so much, I couldn’t stay 
here and have aunt make him take me, whether he 
wanted to, or not. And, unless you knew my aunt 
very well, you could not conceive how unscrupu¬ 
lously straightforward she is in carrying out her 
plans.” 

And so,” said Roberta, “ you have quite baffled 
her by this little ruse of a marriage.” 

“ Not altogether,” said Annie with a smile, for 
she vows she is going to get me divorced from Mr 
Null.” 

“ That is funnier than the rest of it,” said Roberta, 
laughing. And they both laughed together, but in 
a subdued way, so as not to attract the attention of 
the old lady below stairs. 


The Late Mrs Null. 


197 


‘‘ And now, you see,” said Annie, “ why I must be 
Mrs Null while I stay here. And you will promise 
me that you will never tell any one ? ” 

“ You may be sure I shall keep your queer secret. 
But have you not told it to any one but me? ” 

“Yes,” said Annie, “but I have only told it to 
one other, Mr Croft. But please don’t speak of it 
to him.” 

“ Mr Croft! ” exclaimed Roberta. “ How in the 
world did you come to tell him ? Do you know him 
so well as that ? ” 

“Well,” said Annie, “it does seem out of the 
way, I admit, that I should tell him, but I can’t 
give you the whole story of how I came to do 
it. It wouldn’t interest you—at least, it would, 
but I oughtn’t to tell it. It is a twisty sort of 
thing.” 

“ Twisty ? ” said Roberta, drawing herself up, and 
a little away from her companion. 

Annie looked up, and caught the glance by which 
this word was accompanied, and the tone in which 
it was spoken went straight to her soul. “ Now,” 
said she, “ if you are going to look at me, and speak 
in that way. I’ll tell you every bit of it.” And she 
did tell the whole story, from her first meeting with 
Mr Croft in the Information Shop, down to the 
present moment. 

“What is your name, anyway?” said Roberta, 
when the story had been told. 

“ My name,” said the other, “ is Annie Peyton.” 

“And now, do you know, Annie Peyton,” said 


198 


The Late Mrs Null. 


Roberta, passing her fingers gently among the short, 
light-brown curls on her companion’s forehead, “that 
I think you must have a very, very kindly rec¬ 
ollection of the boy who used to come down to the 
lowest branches of the tree to drop apples into your 
apron.” 


CHAPTER XVL 


Shortly after Peggy arrived with her mistress at 
the Keswick residence, her mind began to be a good 
deal disturbed. She had been surprised, when the 
carriage drew up to the door, that “ Mahs’ Junius” 
had not rushed down to meet his intended bride, and 
when she found he was not in the house, and had, 
indeed, gone away froni home, she did not at all 
know what to make of it. If Miss Rob took the 
trouble to travel all the way to the home of the man 
that the Midbranch people had decided she should 
marryit was a very wonderful thing, indeed, that 
he should not be there to meet her. And while 
these thoughts were turning themselves over in the 
mind of this meditative girl of color, and the out¬ 
going look in her eyes was extending itself farther 
and farther, as if in search of some solution of the 
mystery, up rode Mr Croft. 

“ Dar he ! ” exclaimed Peggy, as she stood at the 
corner of the house where she had been pursuing her 
meditations. “ He ! ” she continued in a voice that 
would’ have been quite audible to any one standing 
near. “ Upon my libin’ soul, wot brung him h’yar? 
Miss Rob don’ wan’ him round, nohow. I done 
druv him off wunst. Upon my libin’ soul, he’s done 


200 


The Late Mrs Null. 


brung his bag behin’ him on de saddle, an’ I reckon 
he’s gwine to stay.” 

As Mr Croft dismounted and went into the house, 
Peggy glowered at him; sundry expressions, sound¬ 
ing very much like odds and ends of imprecations 
which she had picked up in the course of a short but 
investigative existence, gurgling from her lips. 

“ I wish dat ole Miss Keswick kunjer him. Ef 
she knew how Miss Rob hate him, she curl he legs 
up, an’ gib him mis’ry spranglin’ down he back.” 

The hope of seeing this intruder well “ kunjered ” 
by the old lady was the only thing that gave a prom¬ 
ise of peace to the mind of Peggy ; and though her 
nature was by no means a social one, she determined 
to make the acquaintance of some one or other in 
the house ; hoping to find out how Mrs Keswick 
conducte.d her conjurations; at what time of day or 
night they were generally put into operation ; and 
how persons could be brought under their influence. 

The breakfast hour in the Keswick house was a 
variable one. Sometimes the mistress of the estab¬ 
lishment rose early and wanted her morning meal 
before she went out of doors; at other times she 
would go off to some distant point on the farm to 
see about something that was doing or ought to be 
done, and breakfast would be kept waiting for her. 
The delays, however, were not all due to the old 
lady’s irregular habits. Very often Letty would 
come up stairs with the information that the “ bread 
ain’t riz ; ” and as a Virginia breakfast without hot 
bread would be an impossibility, the meal would be 


The Late Mrs Null, 


201 


postponed until the bread did conclude to rise, or 
until some substitute, such as ‘‘ beaten biscuit ’’ had 
been provided. 

On the morning after his arrival, Lawrence Croft 
came down stairs about eight o’clock, and found the 
lower part of the house deserted ; and glancing into 
the dining-room as he passed its open door, he saw 
no signs of breakfast. The house was cool, but the 
sun appeared to be shining warmly outside, and he 
stepped out of the open back door into a small 
flower garden, with a series of broad boards down 
the walk which lay along the middle of it. Up and 
down this board walk Lawrence strode, breathing the 
fresh air, and thinking over matters. He was not at 
all satisfied at being here during Keswick’s absence, 
feeling that he was enjoying an advantage which, 
although it was quite honorable, did not appear so. 
What he had to do was to get an interview with 
Miss March as soon as possible, and have that matter 
over. When he had been definitely accepted or re¬ 
jected, he would go away. And, whatever the result 
might be, he would write to his rival as soon as he 
returned to the Springs, and inform him of it, and 
would also explain how he had happened to be here 
with Miss March. While he was engaged in planning 
these honorable intentions, there came from the 
house Mrs Keswick’s niece, with a basket in one 
hand, and a pair of scissors in the other, and she im¬ 
mediately applied herself to cutting some geraniums 
and chrysanthemums, which were about the last 
flowers left blooming at that season in the garden. 


202 


The Late Mrs Null. 


Good morning,” said Croft, from the other end 
of the walk. “ I am glad to see you out so early.” 

“ Good morning,” she replied, with a look which 
indicated that she was not at all glad to see him, 
“ but I don’t think it is early.” 

Croft had noticed on the preceding day that her 
coolness towards him still continued, but it did not 
suit him to let her know that he perceived it. He 
went up to her, and in a very friendly way remarked : 
“ There is something I wish very much you would 
tell me. What is your name ? It is very odd that 
during all the time I have been acquainted with you 
I have never known your name.” 

“You must have taken an immense interest in 
it,” she said, as she snipped some dried leaves off a 
twig of geranium she had cut. 

“ It was not that I did not take any interest,” said 
Croft, “ but at first your name never came forward, 
and I soon began to know you by the title which 
your remarkable condition of wedlock gave you.” 

“ And that is the name,” said the lady, very de¬ 
cidedly, “ by which I am to be known in this house. 
I am very proud of my maiden name, but I am not 
going to tell it to you for fear that some time you 
will use it.” 

“Oh!” ejaculated Mr Croft.” “Then I suppose 
I am to continue even to think of you as Mrs Null.” 

“You needn’t think of me at all,” said she, “but 
when you speak to me I most certainly expect you 
to use that name. It was only by a sort of accident 
that you came to know it was not my name.” 


The Late Mrs Null, 


203 


“I don’t consider it an accident at all,” said 
Croft. “ I look upon it as a piece of very kindly 
confidence.” 

Miss Annie gave a little twist to her mouth, which 
seemed to indicate that if she spoke she should ex¬ 
press her contempt of such an opinion, and Croft 
continued: 

I am very sorry that upon that occasion I should 
have felt myself obliged to refuse your request that 
I should make you acquainted with my reasons for 
desiring to know Mr Keswick’s whereabouts. But 
I am sure, if you understood the matter, you would 

not be in the least degree-” 

Oh, you need not trouble yourself about that,” 
she interrupted. “ I don’t want you to tell me any¬ 
thing at all. It is quite easy, now, to see why you 
wished to know where my cousin was.” 

“ It is impossible that you should know! ” ex¬ 
claimed Croft. 

“We will say no more about it,” replied Annie. 
“ I am quite satisfied.” 

“ I would give a good deal,” said Lawrence, after 
looking steadily at her for a few moments, “ to know 
what you really do think.” 

Annie had cut all the flowers she wanted, or, 
rather, all she could get; and she now stood up and 
looked her companion full in the face. “ Mr Croft,” 
she said, “ it has been necessary, and it is necessary 
now for me to have some concealments, and I am 
sorry for it; but it isn’t at all necessary for me to 
conceal my opinion of your reasons for wanting to 


204 


The Late Mrs NulL 


know about Junius. You were really in pursuit of 
Miss March, and knowing that he was in love with 
her, you wanted to make sure that when you went 
to her, he wouldn’t be there. It is my firm opinion 
that is all there is about it; and the fact of your 
turning up here just after my cousin left, proves it.” 

“ Miss Annie,” exclaimed Croft—“ I have heard 
you called by that name, and I vow I won’t call you 
Mrs Null, when there is no need for it—you were 
never more mistaken in your life, and I am very 
sorry that you should have such a low opinion of 
me as to think I would wish to take advantage of 
your cousin during his absence.” 

“Then why do you do it?” asked Miss Annie, 
with a little upward pitch of her chin. 

At this moment the breakfast-bell rang, and Mrs 
Keswick appeared in the back door, evidently some¬ 
what surprised to see these two conversing in the 
garden. 

“ I am very much vexed,” said Lawrence, as he 
followed his companion, who had suddenly turned 
towards the house, “ that you should think of me in 
this way.” 

But to this remark Miss Annie had no opportunity 
to reply. 

After breakfast, Mrs Keswick proved the truth of 
what her niece had said about her unscrupulous 
straightforwardness when carrying out her projects. 
She had invited Mr Croft and Miss March to her 
house in order that the former might have the oppor¬ 
tunity which she had discovered he wanted and 


The Late Mrs Null, 


205 


could not get, of offering himself in marriage to the 
lady ; and she now made it her business to see that 
Mr Croft’s opportunity should stand up very clear 
and definite before him; and that all interfering 
circumstances should be carefully removed. She 
informed her niece that she wished her to go with 
her to a thicket on the other side of the wheat 
field which that young lady had advised should be 
ploughed fo.r pickles, to look for a turkey-hen which 
she had reason to believe had been ridiculous enough 
to hatch out a brood of young at this improper 
season. Annie demurred, for she did not want to go 
to look for turkeys, nor did she want to give Mr Croft 
any opportunities; but the old lady insisted, and 
carried her off. Croft fe-lt that there was some¬ 
thing very bare and raw-boned about the position 
in which he was left with Miss March; and he 
thought that lady might readily suppose that Mrs 
Keswick’s object was to leave them together. He 
imagined that, himself, though why she should be so 
kind to him he could not feel quite certain. How¬ 
ever, his path lay straight before him, and if the old 
lady had whitewashed it to make it more distinct, 
he did not intend to refuse to walk in it. 

I have been looking at that hill over yonder,” 
said he, “with a cluster of pine trees on the brow of 
it. I should think there would be a fine view from 
that hill. Would you not like to walk up there ? ” 
Lawrence felt that* this proposition was quite in 
keeping with the bareness of the previous proceed¬ 
ings, but he did not wish to stay in the house and 


2 o6 


The Late Mrs Null. 


be subject to the unexpected return of the old lady 
and her niece. 

“ Certainly/’ said Miss March ; “ nothing would 
please me better.” And so they walked up Pine 
Top Hill. 

When they reached this elevated position, they 
sat down on the rock on which Mrs Null had once 
conversed with Freddy, and admired the view, which 
was, indeed, a very fine one. After about five min¬ 
utes of this, which Lawrence thought was quite 
enough, he turned to his companion and said: 

‘‘ Miss March, I do not wish you to suppose that I 
brought you up here for the purpose of viewing 
those rolling hills and distant forests.” 

“You didn’t?” exclaimed Roberta, in a tone of 
surprise. 

“ No,” said he; “I brought you here because it is 
a place where I could speak freely to you, and tell 
you I love you.” 

“That was not at. all necessary,” said Miss March. 
“ We had the lower floor of the house entirely to 
ourselves, and I am sure that Mrs. Keswick would 
not have returned until you had waved a handker¬ 
chief, or given some signal from the back of the house 
that it was all over.” 

Croft looked at her with a troubled expression. 
“ Miss March,” said he, “ do you not think I am in 
earnest ? Do you not believe what I have said ? ” 

“ I have not the slightest doubt you are in ear¬ 
nest,” she answered. “ The magnitude of the prepa¬ 
ration proves it.” 


The Late Mrs Null, 


207 


I am glad you said that, for it gives me the op¬ 
portunity for making an explanation,” said Law¬ 
rence. “ Our meeting at this place may be a care¬ 
fully contrived stratagem, but it was not contrived 
by me. I am very well aware that Mr Keswick also 
wishes to marry you—” 

“ Did you see that in the Richmond Dispatch or 
in one of the New York papers?” interrupted Miss 
March. 

“ That is a point,” said Lawrence, overlooking 
the ridicule, which we need not discuss. I am 
perfectly aware that Mr Keswick is my rival, but 
I wish you to understand that I am not volun¬ 
tarily taking any undue advantage of his ab¬ 
sence. I believe him to be a very fair and generous 
man, and I would wish to be as open and gene¬ 
rous as he is. When I came, I expected to find him 
here, and, standing on equal ground with him, I 
intended to ask you to accept my love.” 

“ Well, then,” said Roberta, “ would it not be more 
fair and generous for you to go away now, and post¬ 
pone this proposal until some time when you would 
each have an equal chance ? ” 

“ No, it would not,” said Lawrence, vehemently. 
“ I have nov/ an opportunity of telling you that I 
love you ardently, passionately; and nothing shall 
cause me to postpone it.. Will you not consider what 
I say ? Will you make no answer to this declaration 
of most true and honest love?” 

I am considering what you have said,” she an¬ 
swered ; “ and I am very glad to hear that you did 


2 o8 


The Late Mrs NulL 


not know of this cunning little trap that Mrs Kes¬ 
wick has laid for me. It is all very plain to me, but 
I do not know why she should have selected you as 
one of the actors in the plot. Have you ever told 
her that you are a suitor for my hand?” 

'' Never! ” exclaimed Lawrence. She may have 
imagined it, for she heard I was a frequent visitor to 
Midbranch. But let us set all that aside. I am on 
fire with love for you. Will you tell me that you 
can return that love, or that I must give up all 
hope? This is the most important question of my 
whole life. I beg you, from the bottom of my heart, 
to decide it.” 

“ Mr Croft,” said she, when you used to come, 
nearly every day, to see me at Midbranch, and we 
took those long walks in the woods, you never 
talked in this way. I considered you as a gentleman 
whose prudence and good sense would not allow him 
to step outside of the path of perfectly conventional 
social intercourse. This is not conventional and not 
prudent.” 

“ I loved you then, and I love you now ;”exclaimed 
Lawrence. “You must have known that I loved 
you, for my declaration does not in the least sur¬ 
prise you.” 

“ Once—it was the last time you visited Midbranch 
—I suspected, just a little, that your mind might be 
affected somewhat in the way you speak of, but 
I supposed that attack of weakness had passed 
away.” 

“ I know what you mean,” said Lawrence, “ but 


The Late Mrs Null, 


209 


I can’t endure to talk of such trifles. I love you, 
Roberta-” 

“ Miss March,” she interrupted. 

“ And I want you to tell me if you love me in re¬ 
turn.” 

Miss March rose from the rock where she had 
been sitting, and her companion rose with her. 
After a moment’s silence, during which he 
watched her with intense eagerness, she said : “ Mr 
Croft, I am going to give you your choice. Would 
you prefer being refused under a cherry tree, or 
under a sycamore ? ” 

There was a little smile on her lips as she said 
this, which Lawrence could not interpret. 

“ I decline being refused under any tree,” he said 
with vehemence. 

I prefer the cherry tree,” said she, there is a 
very pretty one over there on the ridge of this hill, 
and its leaves are nearly all gone, which would 
make it quite appropriate—but what is the mean¬ 
ing of this ? There comes Peggy. It isn’t possible 
that she thinks it’s time for me to give out some¬ 
thing to Aunt Judy.” 

Croft turned, and there was the wooden Peggy, 
marching steadily up the hill, and almost upon 
them. 

“ What do you want, Peggy ? ” asked Miss Ro¬ 
berta. 

Bar’s a man down to de house dat wants him,” 
pointing to Mr Croft. 

Lawrence was very much surprised. “ A man 
14 



210 


The Late Mrs Null, 


who wants me!” he exclaimed. *‘You must be 
mistaken.” 

“No sah,” replied Peggy, “you’s de one.” 

For a moment Lawrence hesitated. His disposi¬ 
tion was to let any man in the world, be he presi¬ 
dent or king, wait until he had settled this matter 
with Miss March. But with Peggy present it was 
impossible to go on with the love-making. He 
might, indeed, send her back with a message, but 
the thought came to him that it would be well to 
postpone for a little the pressing of his suit, for the 
lady was certainly in a very untoward humor, and 
he was not altogether sorry to have an excuse for 
breaking off the interview at this point. He had not 
yet been discarded, and he would like to think over 
the matter, and see if he could discover any reason 
for the very disrespectful manner, to say the least 
of it, with which Miss March had received his ama¬ 
tory advances. “ I suppose I must go and see the 
man,” he said, “ though I can’t imagine who it can 
possibly be. Will you return to the house?” 

“No,” said Miss Roberta, “I will stay here a 
little longer, and enjoy the view.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


As Lawrence Croft walked down Pine Top Hill 
his mind was in a good deal of a hubbub. The mind 
of almost any lover would be stirred up if he came 
fresh from an interview, in which his lady had 
pinned him, to use a cruel figure, in various places on 
the wall to see how he would spin and buzz in differ¬ 
ent lights. But the disdainful pin had not yet gone 
through a vital part of Lawrence’s hopes, and they 
had strength to spin and buzz a good deal yet. As 
soon as he should have an opportunity he would rack 
his brains to find out what it was that had put Ro¬ 
berta March into such a strange humor. No one who 
simply desired to decline the addresses of a gentle¬ 
man would treat her lover as Miss March had treated 
him. It was quite evident that she wished to punish 
him. But what had been his crime ? 

But the immediate business on his hands was to 
go and see what man it was who wished to see him. 
Ordinarily the fact that a man had called upon him 
would not be considered by Lawrence a matter for 
cogitation, but as he walked toward the house it 
seemed to him very odd that any one should call 
upon him in such an out-of-the-way place as this, 
where so few people knew him to be. He was not 
a business man, but a large portion of his funds 


212 


The Late Mrs Null. 


were invested in a business concern, and it might be 
that something had gone wrong, and that a message 
had been sent him. His address at the Green Sul¬ 
phur Springs was known, and the man in charge 
there knew that he was visiting Mrs Keswick. 

These considerations made him a little anxious, 
and helped to keep his mind in the hubbub which 
has been mentioned. 

When he reached the front of the house, Law¬ 
rence saw a lean, gray horse tied to a tree, and a 
man sitting upon the porch ; and as soon as he made 
his appearance the latter came down the steps to 
meet him. 

“ I didn’t go into the house, sir,” he said, “ because 
I thought you’d just as lief have a talk outside.” 

“ What is your business ? ” asked Croft. 

The man moved a few steps farther from the 
house, and Lawrence followed him. 

“ Is it anything secret you have to tell me ? ” he 
asked. 

“ Well, yes, sir, I should think it was,” replied the 
other, a tall man, with sandy hair and beard, and 
dressed in a checkered business suit, which had lost 
a good deal of the freshness of its early youth. “ I 
may as well tell you at once who I am. I am an 
anti-detective. Never heard of that sort of person, 
I suppose ? ” 

‘‘Never,” said Lawrence, curtly. 

“ Well, sir, the organization which I belong to is 
one which is filling a long felt want. You know 
very well, sir, that this country is full of detective 


The Late Mrs Null. 


213 


officers, not only those who belong to a regular po¬ 
lice force, but lots of private ones, who, if anybody 
will pay them for it, will go to Jericho to hunt a 
man up. Now, sir, our object is to protect society 
against these people. When we get information 
that a man is going to be hounded down by any of 
these detectives—and we have private ways of know¬ 
ing these things—we just go to that man, and if he 
is willing to become one of our clients, we take him 
into our charge ; and our business, after that, is to 
keep him informed of just what is being done against 
him. He can stay at home in comfort with his 
wife, settle up his accounts, and do what he likes, and 
the day before he is to be swooped down on, he gets 
notice from us, and comfortably goes to Chicago, or 
Jacksonville, where he can take his ease until we 
post him of the next move of the enemy. If he 
wants to take extra precautions, and writes a letter 
to anybody in the place where he lives, dated from 
London or Hong Kong, and sends that letter under 
cover to us, we’ll see that' it is mailed from the place 
it is dated from, and that it gets into the hands of 
the detectives. There have been cases where a gen¬ 
tleman has had six months or a year of perfect com¬ 
fort, by the detectives being thrown off by a letter 
like this. That is only one of the ways in which 
we help and protect persons in difficulties who, if 
it wasn’t for us, would be dragged off, hand-cuffed, 
from the bosom of their families; and who, even if 
they never got convicted, would have to pay a lot of 
money to get out of the scrape. Now, I have put 


214 


The Late Mrs Null. 


myself a good deal out of the way, sir, to come to 
you, and offer you our assistance.” 

Me ! ” exclaimed Croft. “ What are you talking 
about ? ” 

The man smiled. Of course, it’s all right to 
know nothing about it, and it’s just what we would 
advise ; but I assure you we are thoroughly posted 
in your affair, and to let you know that we are. I’ll 
just mention that the case is that of Croft after 
Keswick, through Candy.” 

‘‘ Stuff and nonsense ! ” exclaimed Lawrence, get¬ 
ting red in the face. “ There is no such case ! ” 

He was about to say more, when a few words 
from the anti-detective stopped him suddenly. 

Look here, Mr Keswick,” said the man, leveling 
a long fore-finger at him, and speaking very earn¬ 
estly, “ don’t you go and flatter yourself that this 
thing has been dropped, because you haven’t heard 
of it for a month or two ; and if you’ll take my ad¬ 
vice, you’ll make up your mind on the spot, either 
to let things go on and be nabbed, or to put your¬ 
self under our protection, and live in entire safety 
until this thing has blown over, without any trouble, 
except a little travelling.” 

At the mention of Keswick’s name, Lawrence had 
seen through the whole affair at a single mental 
glance. The man-was after Junius Keswick, and his 
business was to Lawrence more startling and repug¬ 
nant than it could possibly be to any one else. It 
was necessary to be very careful. If he immediately 
avowed who he was, the man might yet find Kes- 


The ' Late Mrs NtdL 


215 


wick, before warning and explanation could be got 
to him, and not only put that gentleman in a very 
unpleasant state of mind, but do a lot of mischief 
besides. He did not believe that Mr Candy had re¬ 
commenced his investigations without consultation 
with him, but this person evidently knew that such 
an investigation had been set on foot, and that would 
be sufficient for his purposes. Lawrence decided 
to be very wary, and he said to the man, “ Did you 
ask for me here by name ? ” 

“ No, sirL said the other, I had information that 
you were here, and that you were the only gentle¬ 
man who lived here and although you are in your own 
home, I did not know but this was one of those cases 
in which names were dropped and servants changed, 
to suit an emergency. I asked the little darkey I 
saw at the front of the house if she lived here, and 
she told me she had only just come. That put me on 
my guard, and so I merely asked if the gentleman 
was in, and she went and got you. We’re very care¬ 
ful about calling names, and you needn’t be afraid 
that any of our people will ever give you away on 
that line.” 

Lawrence reflected for a moment, and then he 
said : “ What are your terms and arrangements for 
carrying on an affair of this kind?” 

“ They are very simple and moderate,” said the 
man, taking a wallet from his pocket. There is one 
of our printed slips, which we show but don’t give 
away. To become a client all you have to do is to 
send fifteen dollars to the office, or to pay it to me, 


2i6 


The Late Mrs Null. 


if you think no time should be lost. That will en¬ 
title you to protection for a year. After that we 
make the nominal charge of five dollars for each let¬ 
ter sent you, giving you information of what is 
going on against you. For extra services, such as 
mailing letters from distant points, of course there 
will be extra charges.” 

Lawrence glanced over the printed slip, which con¬ 
tained information very similar to that the man had 
given him, and as he did so, he came to the conclusion 
that there would be nothing dishonest in allowing 
the fellow to continue in his mistake, and to en¬ 
deavor to find out what mischief was about to be 
done in his, Lawrence’s, name, and under his appar¬ 
ent authority. “ I will become a subscriber,” said he, 
taking out his pocketbook, “ and request that you 
give me all the information you possess, here and 
immediately.” 

“ That' is the best thing to do,” said the man, 
taking the money, “ for, in my opinion, no time is 
to be lost, ril give you a receipt for this.” 

Don’t trouble yourself about that,” said Law¬ 
rence ; “ let me have your information.” 

“ You’re very right,” said the man. It’s a great 
deal better not to have your name on anything. 
And now for the points. Candy, who has charge of 
Croft’s job, is going more into the detective busi¬ 
ness than he used to be, and we have information 
that he has lately taken up your affair in good, solid 
earnest. He found out that Croft had put some¬ 
body else on your track, without regularly taking 


The Late Mrs NtilL 


217 


the, business out of his hands, and this made him 
mad ; and I don’t wonder at it, for Croft, as I under¬ 
stand, has plenty of money, and if he concluded to 
throw Candy over, he ought to have done it fair 
and square, and paid him something handsome in 
consideration for having taken the job away. But 
he didn’t do anything of the kind, and Candy con¬ 
siders himself still in his employment, and vows he’s 
going to get hold of you before the other party 
does; so, you see, you have got two sets of detec¬ 
tives after you, and they’ll be mighty sharp, for the 
first one that gets you will make the money.” 

“ Where are Candy’s detectives now ? ” asked 
Lawrence. 

That I can’t tell you positively, as I am so far 
from our New York office, to which all information 
comes. But now that you are a subscriber. I’ll 
communicate with head-quarters and the necessary 
points will be immediately sent to you by telegraph, 
if necessary. All that you have to do is to stay here 
until you hear from us.” 

“ From the way you spoke just now,” said Law¬ 
rence, “ I supposed the detective would be here to¬ 
day or to-morrow.” 

“ Oh no,” said the other, “ Candy has not the facil¬ 
ities for finding people that we have. But it takes 
some time for me to communicate with head-quarters 
and for you to hear from there; and so, as I said 
before, there isn’t an hour to be lost. But you’re all 
right now.” 

I expected you to give me more definite infor- 


2 i 8 


The Late Mrs Null, 


mation than this,” said Lawrence, ‘‘ but now, I sup¬ 
pose, I must wait until I hear from New York, at 
five dollars a message.” 

“ My business is to enlist subscribers,” said the 
other. “You couldn’t expect me to tell you any¬ 
thing definite when I am in an out-of-the-way place 
like this.” 

“ Did you come down to Virginia on purpose to 
find me ? ” asked Lawrence. 

“ No,” said the man, “ I am on my way to Mobile, 
and I only lose one train by stopping here to attend 
to your business.” 

“ How did you know I was here ? ” 

“Ah,” said the anti-detective, with a smile, “ as I 
told you, we have facilities. I knew you were at 
this house, and I came here, straight as a die.” 

“ It is truly wonderful,” said Lawrence, “ how ac¬ 
curate your information is. And now I will tell you 
something you can have, gratis. You have made 
one of the most stupid blunders that I ever heard 
of. Mr Keswick went away from here, nearly a week 
ago, and I am the Mr Croft whom you supposed to 
be in pursuit of him.” 

The man started, and gave vent to an unpleasant 
ejaculation. 

“ To prove it,” said Lawrence, “there, is my card, 
and,” putting his hand into his pocket, “ here are 
several letters addressed to me. And I want to 
let you know that I am not in pursuit of Mr Kes¬ 
wick ; that he and I are very good friends; and that 
I have frequently seen him of late; and so you .can 


The Late Mrs Null. 


219 


just drop this business at once. And as for Candy, 
he has no right to take a single step for which I have 
not authorized him. I merely employed him to get 
Mr Keswick’s address, which I wished for a very 
friendly motive. I shall write to Candy at once.” 

The man’s face was not an agreeable study. He 
looked angry; he looked baffled; and yet he looked 
incredulous. “Now, come,” said he, “if you are 
not Keswick, what did you pay me that money 
for?” 

“ I paid it to you,” said Lawrence, “ because I 
wanted to find out what dirty business you were do¬ 
ing in my name. I have had the worth of my money, 
and you can now go.” 

The man did not go, but stood gazing at Law¬ 
rence in a very peculiar way. “ If Mr Keswick isn’t 
here,” he said, “ I believe you are here waiting for 
him, and I am going to stay and warn him. People 
don’t set private detectives on other men’s tracks 
just for friendly motives.” 

Lawrence’s face flushed and he made a step for¬ 
ward, but suddenly checking himself, he looked at 
the man for a moment and then said: “ I suppose 
you want me to understand that if I become one of 
your subscribers in my own name, you will be willing 
to withhold the information you intended to give 
Mr Keswick.” 

“Well,” said the man, relapsing into his former 
confidential tones, “ business is business. If I could 
see Mr Keswick, I don’t know whether he would em¬ 
ploy me or not. I have no reason to work for one 


220 ■ 


The Late Mrs Null, 


person more than another, and, of course, if one 
man comes to me and another doesn’t. I’m bound to 
work for the man who comes. That’s business ! ” 
“You have said quite enough,” said Lawrence. 
“ Now leave this place instantly ! ” 

“ No, I won’t! ” said the man, shutting his mouth 
very tightly, as he drew himself up and folded his 
arms on his chest. 

Lawrence was young, well-made, and strong, but 
the other man was taller, heavier, and perhaps 
stronger. To engage in a personal contest to compel 
a fellow like this to depart, would be a very unpleas¬ 
ant thing for Lawrence to do, even if he succeeded. 
He was a visitor here, the ladies would probably be 
witnesses of the conflict, and although the natural 
impulse of his heart, predominant over everything 
else at that moment, prompted him to spring upon 
the impudent fellow and endeavor to thrash him, still 
his instincts as a gentleman forbade him to enter 
into such a contest, which would probably have no 
good effect, no matter how it resulted. Never be¬ 
fore did he feel the weakness of the moral power of 
a just cause when opposed to brutal obstinacy. Still 
he did not retreat from his position. “ Did you 
hear what I said ? ” he cried. “ Leave this place ! ” 

“ You are not master here,” said the other, still 
preserving his defiant attitude, “ and you have no 
right to order me away. I am not going.” 

Despite his inferiority in size, despite his gentle¬ 
manly instincts, and despite his prudent desire not 
to make an exhibition of himself before Miss March 


The Late Mrs Null, 


221 


and the household, it is probable that Lawrence’s 
anger would have assumed some form of physical 
manifestation, had not Mrs Keswick appeared sud¬ 
denly on the porch. It was quite evident to her, 
from the aspecfof the two men, that something was 
wrong, and she called out: “ Who’s that 1 ” 

That, madam,” said Lawrence, stepping a little 
back, “ is a very impertinent man who has no busi¬ 
ness here, and whom I’ve ordered off the place, and, 
as he has refused to go, I propose—” 

“ Stop! ” cried the old lady. And turning, she 
rushed into the house. Before either of the men 
could recover from their surprise at her sudden ac¬ 
tion, she reappeared upon the porch, carrying a 
double-barreled gun. Taking her position on the top 
of the flight of steps, with a quick movement of her 
thumb she cocked both barrels. Then, drawing her¬ 
self up and resting firmly on her right leg, with the 
left advanced, she raised the gun ; her right elbow 
well against her side, and with her extended left arm 
as steady as one of the beams of the roof above her. 
She hooked her forefinger around one of the trig¬ 
gers, her eagle eye glanced along the barrels straight 
at the head of the anti-detective, and, in a clarion 
voice she sang out “ Go !” 

The man stared at her. He saw the open muzzles 
of the gun barrels; beyond them, he saw the bright 
tops of the two percussion caps; and still beyond 
them, he saw the bright and determined eye that was 
taking sight along the barrels. All this he took in 
at a glance, and, without word or comment, he made 


222 


The Late Mrs Null, 


a quick dodge of his head, jumped to one side, made 
a dash for his horse, and, untying the bridle with a 
jerk, he mounted and galloped out of the open gate, 
turning as he did so to find himself still covered by 
the muzzles of that gun. When •he had nearly 
reached the outer gate and felt himself out of range, 
he turned in his saddle, and looking back at Law¬ 
rence, who was still standing where he had left him, 
he violently shook his fist in the air. 

“ Which means,” said Lawrence to himself, “ that 
he intends to make trouble with. Keswick.” 

That settled him,” said the old lady, with a 
grim smile, as she lowered the muzzle of the gun, 
and gently let down the hammers. 

“ Madam,” said Lawrence, advancing toward her, 
may I ask if that gun is loaded ? ” 

“ I should say so,” replied the old lady. “ In 
each barrel are two thimblefuls of powder, and half- 
a-box of Windfall’s Teaberry Tonic Pills, each one 
of them as big and as hard as a buckshot. They 
were brought here by a travelling agent, who sold 
some of them to my people ; and I tell you, sir, 
that those pills made them so sick that one man 
wasn’t able to work for two days, and another for 
three. I vowed if that agent ever came back, I’d 
shoot his abominable pills into him, and I’ve kept 
the gun loaded for the purpose. Was this a pill 
man ? I scarcely think he was a fertilizer, because 
it is rather late in the season for those bandits.” 

“He is a man,” said Lawrence, coming up the 
steps, “ who belongs to a class much worse than 


TJie Late Mrs Null, 


those you have mentioned. He is what is called a 
blackmailer.'’ 

“ Is that so ? ” cried the old lady, her eyes flash¬ 
ing as she brought the butt of the gun heavily upon 
the porch floor. “ I’m very glad I did not know it; 
very glad, indeed; for I might have been tempted 
to give him what belonged to another, without wait¬ 
ing for him to disobey my order to go. I am very* 
much troubled, sir, that this annoyance should have 
happened to you in my house. Pray do not allow 
it to interfere with the enjoyment of your visit here, 
which I hope may continue as long as you can make 
it convenient.” 

The words and manner convinced Lawrence that 
that they did not merely indicate a conventional 
hospitality. The old lady meant what she said. 
She wanted him to stay. 

That morning he had become convinced that he 
had been invited there because Mrs Keswick wished 
him to marry Miss March; and she had done this, 
not out of any kind feeling toward him, because that 
would be impossible, considering the shortness of 
their acquaintance, but because she was opposed to 
her nephew’s marriage with Miss March, and because 
he, Lawrence, was the only available person who 
could be brought forward to supplant him. “ But 
whatever her motive is,” thought Lawrence, “ her 
invitation comes in admirably for me, and I hope I 
shall get fhe proper advantage from it.” 

Shortly after this, Lawrence sat in the parlor, by 
himself, writing a letter. It was to Junius Keswick; 


224 


The Late Mrs Null, 


and in it he related the facts of his search for 
him in New York, and the reason why he desired 
to make his acquaintance. He concealed nothing 
but the fact that Keswick’s cousin had had any¬ 
thing to do with the affair. “ If she wants him to 
know that,” he thought, “ she can tell him herself. 
It is not my business to make any revelations in 
that quarter.” He concluded the letter by inform¬ 
ing Mr Keswick of the visit of the anti-detective, 
and warning him against any attempts which that 
individual might make upon his pocket, assuring 
him that the man could tell him nothing in regard 
to the affair that he now did not know. 

After dinner, during which meal Miss March ap¬ 
peared in a very good humor, and talked rather 
more than she had yet done in the bosom of that 
family, Lawrence had his horse saddled, and rode 
to the railroad station, about six miles distant, 
where he posted his letter; and also sent a telegram 
to Mr Junius Keswick, warning him to pay no at¬ 
tention to any man who might call upon him on 
business connected with Croft and Keswick, and 
stating that an explanatory letter had been sent. 

The anti-detective had left on a train an hour 
before, but Lawrence felt certain that the telegram 
would reach Keswick before the man could possi¬ 
bly get to him, especially as the latter had probably 
not yet found out his intended victim’s address. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


As Lawrence Croft rode back to Mrs Keswick’s 
house, after having posted to his rival the facts in 
the case of Croft after Keswick, he did not feel in a 
very happy or triumphant mood. The visit of the 
anti-detective had compelled him to write to Kes¬ 
wick at a time when it was not at all desirable that 
he should make any disclosures whatever in regard 
to his love affkir with Miss March, except that very 
important disclosure which he had made to the lady 
herself that morning. Of course there was no great 
danger that any intimation would reach Miss March 
of Mr Croft’s rather eccentric search for his prede¬ 
cessor in the position which he wished to occupy 
in her affections. But the matter was particularly 
unpleasant just now, and Lawrence wished to occupy 
his time here in business very different from that 
of sending explanations to rivals and warding off 
unfriendly entanglements threatened by a black¬ 
mailer. 

It was absolutely necessary for him to find out 
what he had done to offend Miss March. Offended 
that lady certainly was, and he even felt that she was 
glad of the opportunity his declaration gave her to 
inflict punishment upon him. But still he did not 
despair. When she had made him pay the penalty 
15 


226 


The Late Mrs NzclL 


she thought proper for whatever error he had com¬ 
mitted, she might be willing to listen to him. He 
had not said anything to her in regard to his failure 
to make her the promised visit at Midbranch, for, 
during the only time he had been alone with lifer here, 
the subject of an immediate statement of his feelings 
toward her had wholly occupied his mind. But it 
now occurred to him that she had reason to feel 
aggrieved at his failure to keep his promise to her, 
and she must have shown that feeling, for, other¬ 
wise, her most devoted friend, Mr Junius Keswick, 
would never have made that rather remarkable visit 
to him at the Green Sulphur Springs. Of course he 
would not allude to that visit, nor to her wish to see 
him, for she had sent him no message, nor did he 
know what object she had in desiring an interview. 
But it was quite possible that she might have taken 
umbrage at his failure to come to her when expected, 
and that this was the reason for her present treat¬ 
ment of him. To this treatment Lawrence might 
have taken exception, but now he did not wish to 
judge her in any way. His only desire in regard to 
her was to possess her, and therefore, instead of con¬ 
demning her for her unjust method of showing her 
resentment, he merely considered how he should set 
himself right with her. Cruel or kind, just or un¬ 
just, he wanted her. 

And then, as he slowly trotted along the lonely 
and uneven road, it suddenly flashed upon him, as if 
in mounting a hill, a far-reaching landscape, hitherto 
unseen, had in a moment, spread itself out before 


The Late Mrs NtilL 


227 


him, that, perhaps. Miss March had divined the 
reason of his extremely discreet behavior toward 
her. Was it possible that she had seen his motives, 
and knew the truth, and that she resented the pru¬ 
dence and caution he had shown in his intercourse 
with her? 

If she had read the truth, he felt that she had 
good reason for her. resentment, and Lawrence did 
not trouble himself to consider if she had shown too 
much of it or not. He remembered the story of the 
defeated general, and, feeling that so far he had been 
thoroughly defeated, he determined to admit the 
fact, and to sound a retreat from all the positions he 
had held; but, at the same time, to make a bold 
dash into the enemy’s camp, and, if possible, capture 
the commander-in-chief and the Minister of War. 

He would go to Roberta, tell her all that he had 
thought, and explain all that he had done. There 
should be no bit of truth which she could have 
reasoned out, which he would not plainly avow and 
set before her. Then he would declare to her that 
his love for her had become so great, that, rushing 
over every barrier, whether of prudence, doubt, or 
indecision, it had carried him with it and laid him at 
her feet. When he had come to this bold conclu¬ 
sion, he cheered up his horse with a' thump of his 
heel and cantered rapidly over the rest of the road. 

Peggy, having nothing else to do, was standing by 
the yard gate when he came in sight, and she 
watched his approach with feelings of surprise and 
disgust. She had seen him ride away, and not con- 


228 


The Late Null. 


sidering the fact that he did not carry his valise 
with him, she supposed he had taken his final de¬ 
parture. She had conceived a violent dislike to Mr 
Croft, looking upon him in the light of an inter¬ 
loper and a robber, who had come to break up that 
expected marriage between Master Junius and Miss 
Rob, which the servants at Midbranch looked for¬ 
ward to as necessary for the prosperity of the family ; 
and the preliminary stages of which she had taken 
upon herself the responsibility of describing with so 
much minuteness of detail. With the politeness 
natural to the Southern negro, she opened the gate 
for the gentleman, but as she closed it behind him, 
she cast after him a look of earnest malevolence. 
“ Ef dot ole Miss Keswick don’ kunjer you, sah,” 
she said in an undertone, “ I’s g^vine to do it myse’f. 
So, dar! ” And she gave her foot a stamp on the 
ground. 

Lawrence, all ignorant of the malignant feeling he 
had excited in this, to him, very unimportant and 
uninteresting black girl, tied his horse and went into 
the house. As he passed the open door of the par¬ 
lor he saw a lady reading by a window in the farthest 
corner. Hanging up his hat, he entered, hoping 
that the reader, whose form was partially concealed 
by the back of the large rocking chair in which she 
was sitting, was Miss March. But it was not; it 
was Mrs Keswick’s niece, deeply engrossed by a 
large-paged novel. She turned her head as he 
entered, and said : Good evening.” 

“ Good evening. Miss Annie,” said Lawrence, seat- 


The Late Mrs Ntdl. 


229 


ing himself in a chair opposite her on the other side 
of the window. 

“ Mr Croft,” said she, laying her book on her lap, 
and inclining herself slightly toward him, ‘‘you 
have no right to call me Miss Annie, and I wish you 
would not do it. The servants in the South call 
ladies by their first names, whether they are married 
or not, but people would think it very strange if 
you should imitate them. My name in this house is 
Mrs Null, and I wish you would not forget it.” 

“ The trouble with me is,” said Lawrence, with a 
smile, “that I cannot forget it is not Mrs Null, but, 
of course, if you desire it, I will give you that 
name.” 

“ I told you before how much I desired it,” said 
she, “ and why. When my aunt finds out the exact 
state of this affair, I shall wish to stay no longer 
in this house; and I don’t want my stay to come to 
an end at present. I am very happy here with the 
only relatives I have in the world, who are ever so 
much nicer people than I supposed they were, and 
you have no right to come here and drive me 
away.” 

“ My dear young lady,” said Croft, “ I wouldn’t 
do such a thing for the world. I admit that I am 
very sorry that it is necessary, or appears to you to 
be so, that you should be here under false colors, 
but-” 

‘^Appears to be,” said she, with much emphasis 
on the first word. “ Why, can’t you see that it 
would be impossible for me, as a young unmarried 



230 


The Late Mrs NulL 


woman, to come to the house of a man, whose pro¬ 
prietor, as Aunt Keswick considers herself to be, 
has been trying to marry to me, even before I was 
grown up ; for the letters that used to make my 
father most angry were about this. I hate to talk 
of these family affairs, and I only do ft so that you 
can be made understand things.” 

Mrs. Null,” said Lawrence, “ do not think I wish 
to blame you. You have had a hard time of it, and 
I can see the peculiarities of your residence here. 
Don’t be afraid of me ; I will not betray your secret. 
While I am here, I will address you, and will try to 
think of you as a very grave young matron. But I 
wish very much that you were not quite so grave 
and severe when you address me. When I was here 
last week your manner was very different. We 
were quite friendly then.” 

“ I see no particular reason,” said Annie, “ why 
we should be friendly.” 

“ Mrs. Null,” said Lawrence, after a little pause, 
during which he looked at her attentively, ‘‘ I don’t 
believe you approve of me.” 

No,” said she, I don’t.” 

He could not help smiling at the earnest direct¬ 
ness of her answer, though he did not like it. “ I am 
sorry,” he said, “ that you should have so poor an 
opinion of me. And, now, let me tell you what I 
was going to say this morning, that my only object 
in finding your cousin was to know the man who 
had been engaged to Miss March.” 

So that you could find out what she probably 


The Late Mrs Null. 


231 


objected to in him, and could then try and not let her 
see anything of that sort in you.” 

“Mrs Null,” said Lawrence, “you are unjust. 
There is no reason why you should speak to me in 
this way.” 

“ I would like to know,” she said, “what cause 
there could possibly be for your wanting to become 
acquainted with a man who had been engaged to 
the lady you wished to marry, if you didn’t intend 
to study him up, and try to do better yourself.” 

“ My motive in desiring to become acquainted 
with Mr Keswick,” said Lawrence, “ is one you could 
scarcely understand, and all I can say about it is, 
that I believed that if I knew the gentleman who had 
formerly been the accepted lover of a lady, I should 
better know the lady.” 

“ You must be awfully suspicious,” said she. 

“No, I am not,” he answered, “and I knew you 
would not understand me. My only desire in speak¬ 
ing to you upon this subject is that you may not 
unreasonably judge me.” 

“But I am not unreasonable,” said Annie. “You 
are trying to get Miss March away from my cousin; 
and I don’t think it is fair, and I don’t want you to 
do it. When you were here before, I thought you 
two were good friends, but now I don’t believe it. ’ 

How friendly might be the relations between 
himself and Keswick, when the latter should read 
his letter about the Candy affair, and should 
know that he was in this house with Miss March, 
Lawrence could not say; but he did not allude to 


232 


The Late Mrs Null. 


this point in his companion’s remarks. “ I do not 
think,” he said, ‘‘ that you have any reason to object 
to my endeavoring to win Miss March. Even if she 
accepts me, it will be to the advantage of your 
cousin, because if he still hopes to obtain her, the 
sooner he knows he cannot do so, the better it will 
be for him. My course is perfectly fair. I am 
aware that the lady is not at present engaged to 
any one, and I am endeavoring to induce her to en¬ 
gage herself to me. If I fail, then I step'aside.” 

“ Entirely aside, and out of the way?” asked Mrs 
Null. 

‘‘ Entirely,” answered Lawrence. 

Well,” said Annie, leaning back in her chair, in 
which before she had been sitting very upright, 
“ you have, at last, given me a good deal of your 
confidence ; almost as much as I gave you. Some 
of the things you say I believe, others I don’t.” 

Lawrence was annoyed, but he would not allow 
himself to get angry. “ I am not accustomed to being 
disbelieved,” he said, gravely. “ It is a very unusual 
experience, I assure you. Which of my statements 
do you doubt ?” 

“ I don’t believe,” said Annie, “ that you will give 
her up if she rejects you while you are here.' You 
are too wilful. You will follow her, and try again.” 

“Mrs Null,” said Lawrence, “I do not feel justi¬ 
fied in speaking to a third person of these things, 
but this is a peculiar case, and, therefore, I assure 
you, and request you to believe me, that if Miss 
March shall now positively refuse me, I shall feel 


The Late Mrs Null, 


233 


convinced that her affections are already occupied, 
and that I have no right to press my suit any 
longer.” 

‘‘Would you like to begin now?” said Annie. 
“She is coming down stairs.” 

“You are entirely too matter-of-fact,” said Law¬ 
rence, smiling in spite of himself, and, in a moment, 
Roberta entered the room. 

If the young lady in the high-backed rocking-chair 
had any idea of giving Mr Croft and Miss March an 
opportunity of expressing their sentiments toward 
each other, she took no immediate steps to do so; 
for she gently rocked herself; she talked about the 
novel she had been reading; she blamed Miss March 
for staying so long in her room on such a beautiful 
afternoon; and she was the primary cause of a con¬ 
versation among the three upon the differences 
between New York weather and that of Virginia; 
and this continued until old Mrs Keswick joined 
the party, and changed the conversation to the 
consideration of the fact that a fertilizer agent, a 
pill man, or a blackmailer would find out a person’s 
whereabouts, even if he were attending the funeral 
of his grandmother on a desert island. 

The next morning, about an hour after breakfast, 
Lawrence was walking up and down on the grass in 
front of the house, smoking a cigar, and troubling 
his mind. He had had no opportunity on the 
previous evening to be alone with Miss March, for 
the little party sat together in the parlor until they 
separated for bed; and so, of course, nothing was 


234 


The Late Mrs Null, 


yet settled. He was overstaying the time he had 
expected to spend here, and he felt nervous about 
it. He had hoped to see Miss March after break¬ 
fast, but she seemed to have withdrawn herself 
entirely from observation. Perhaps she considered 
that she had sufficiently rejected him on the pre¬ 
vious morning, and that she now intended, except 
when she was sure of the company of the others, to 
remain in her room until he should go away. But 
he had no such opinion in regard to their interview 
on Pine Top Hill. He believed that he had been 
punished, not rejected, and that when he should be 
able to explain everything to her, he would be for¬ 
given. That, at least, was his earnest hope, and 
hope makes us believe almost anything. 

But, although there were so many difficulties in 
his way, Lawrence had a friend in that household 
who still remained true to him. Mrs Keswick, with 
sun-bonnet and umbrella, came out upon the porch, 
and said cheerily: “I should think a gentleman like 
you would prefer to be with the ladies than to be 
walking about here by yourself. They have gone 
to take a walk in the woods. I should have said 
that Miss March has gone on ahead, with her little 
maid Peggy. My niece was going with her, but I 
called her back to attend to some housekeeping 
matters for me, and I think she will be kept longer 
than she expected, for I have just sent Letty to her 
to be shown how to cut out a frock. But you 
needn’t wait; you can go right through the flower- 
garden, and take the path over the fields into the 


The Late Mrs Ntill. 


235 


woods.” And, having concluded this bit of con¬ 
scienceless and transparent management, the old 
lady remarked that she, herself, was going for a walk, 
and left him. 

Lawrence lost no time in following her suggestions. 
Throwing away his cigar, he hurried through the 
house and the little flower-garden, a gate at the 
back of which opened into a wide pasture-field. 
This field sloped down gently to a branch, or little 
stream, which ran through the middle of it, and then 
the ground ascended until it reached the edge of 
the woods. Following the well-defined path, he 
looked across the little valley before him, and could 
see, just inside the edge of the woods—the trees and 
bushes being much more thinly attired than in the 
summer time—the form of a lady in a light-colored 
dress with a red scarf upon her shoulders, sometimes 
moving slowly, sometimes stopping. This was Rob¬ 
erta, and those woods were a far better place than 
the exposed summit of Pine Top Hill, in which to 
plight his troth, if it should be so that he should be 
able to do it, and there were doubtless paths in those 
woods through which they might afterwards wander, 
if things should turn out propitiously. At all events, 
in those woods would he settle this affair. 

His intention was still strong to make a very clean 
breast of it to Roberta. If she had blamed him for his 
prudent reserve, she should have full opportunity to 
forgive him. All that he had been she should know, 
but far more important than that, he would try to 
make her know, better than he had done before, what 


236 


TJie Late Mrs Null. 


he was now. Abandoning all his previous positions, 
and mounted on these strong resolutions, thus would 
he dash into her camp, and hope to capture her. 

Reaching the little ravine, at the bottom of which 
flowed the branch, now but two or three feet wide, 
he ran down the rather steep slope and stepped 
upon the stout plank which bridged the stream. The 
instant he did so, the plank turned beneath him as 
if it had been hung on pivots, and he fell into the 
stony bed of the branch. It was an awkward fall, for 
the leg which was undermost came down at an 
angle, and his foot, striking a slippery stone, turned 
under him. In a moment he was on his feet, and 
scrambled up the side of the ravine, down which 
he had just come. When he reached the top 
he sat down and put both his hands on his right 
ankle, in which he felt considerable pain. In a few 
minutes he arose, and began to walk toward the 
house, but he had not taken a dozen steps before he 
sat down again. The pain in his ankle was very se¬ 
vere, and he felt quite sure that he had sprained it. 
He knew enough about such things to understand 
that if he walked upon this injured joint, he 
would not only make the pain worse, but the 
consequences might be serious. He was very much 
annoyed, not only that this thing had happened to 
him, but that it had happened at such an inauspi¬ 
cious moment. Of course, he could not now go on 
to the woods, and he must get somebody to help 
him to the house. Looking about, he saw, at a dis¬ 
tance, Uncle Isham, and he called loudly to him. 


The Late Mrs Null. 


237 


As soon as Lawrence was well away from the edge 
of the ravine, there emerged from some thick bushes 
on the other side of it, and at a short distance from 
the crossing-place, a negro girl, who slipped noise¬ 
lessly down to the branch; moved with quick steps 
and crouching body to the plank; removed the two 
round stones on which it had been skilfully poised, 
and replaced it in its usual firm position. This done, 
she slipped back into the bushes, and by the time 
Isham had heard the call of Mr. Croft, she was slowly 
walking down the opposite hill, as if she were com¬ 
ing from the woods to see why the gentleman was 
shouting. 

Miss March also heard the call, and came out of 
the woods, and when she saw Lawrence sitting on 
the grass on the other side of the branch, with 
one hand upon his ankle, she knew that something 
had happened, and came down toward him. Law¬ 
rence saw her approaching, and before she was even 
near enough to hear him, he began to shout to her 
to be careful about crossing the branch, as the board 
was unsafe. Peggy joined her, and walked on in 
front of her; and when Miss March understood 
what Lawrence was saying, she called back that she 
would be careful. When they reached the ravine, 
Peggy ran down, stepped upon the plank, jumped 
on the middle of it, walked over it, and then back 
again, and assured her mistress that it was just as 
good as ever it was, and that she reckoned the city 
gentleman didn’t know how to walk on planks, and 
that “ he jes’ done fall off.” 


238 


The Late Mrs Null, 


Miss March crossed, stepping a little cautiously, 
and reached Lawrence just as Uncle Isham, with 
strong arms and many words of sympathy, had as¬ 
sisted him to his feet. “ What has happened to you, 
Mr. Croft?” she exclaimed. 

“ I was coming to you,” he said ; “ and in crossing 
the stream the plank turned under me, and I am 
afraid I have sprained my ankle. I can’t walk on 
it.” 

“ I am very sorry,” she said. 

“ Because I was coming to you,” he said, grimly, 
“ or because I hurt myself ? ” 

‘‘You ought to be ashamed to speak in that way,” 
she answered, “ but I won’t find fault with you, now 
that you are in such pain. Is there anything I can 
do for you?” 

“ No, thank you,” said Lawrence. “ I will lean on 
this good man, and I think I can hop to the house.” 

“ Peggy,” said Miss Roberta, “ walk on the other 
side of the gentleman, and let him lean upon .your 
shoulder. I will go on and have something prepared 
to put on his ankle.” 

With one side supported by the stout Isham, and 
his other hand resting on the shoulder of the good 
little Peggy, who bore up as strongly under it as if 
she had been a big walking-stick, Lawrence slowly 
made his way to the house. Miss March got there 
sometime before he did, and was very glad to find that 
Mrs Keswick had not yet gone out on the walk for 
which she was prepared. That circumspect old lady 
had found this and that to occupy her, while she so 


The Late Mrs Null. 


239 


managed her household matters, that one thing 
should follow another, to detain her niece. But 
when she heard what had happened, all other im¬ 
pulses gave way to those which belonged to a head 
nurse and a mistress of emergencies. She set down 
her umbrella ;‘shouted an order to Letty to put a ket¬ 
tle of water on the fire; brought from her own room 
some flannel and two bottles of embrocation ; and 
then stopping a moment to reflect, ordered that the 
office should be prepared for Mr Croft, for it would 
be a shame to make a gentleman, with a sprained 
ankle, clamber up stairs. 

The office was a small building in the wide front 
yard, not very far from the house, and opposite to 
the arbor, which has been before mentioned. It was 
one story high, and contained'one large and comfor¬ 
table room. Such buildings are quite common on 
Virginian farms, and although called offices are sel¬ 
dom used in an official way, being generally appropri¬ 
ated to the bachelors of the family or their gentle¬ 
man visitors. This one was occupied by Junius 
Keswick, when he was at home, and a good many 
of his belongings were now in.it; but as it was at 
present unoccupied, nothing could be more proper 
than that Mr Croft should have it. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


About noon of the day of Mr Croft’s accident, 
Uncle Isham had occasion to go to the cabin of the 
venerable Aunt Patsy, and, of course he told her 
what had happened to the gentleman whom he and 
Aunt Patsy still supposed to be Miss Annie’s 
husband. The news produced a very marked effect 
upon the old woman. She put down the crazy 
quilt, upon the unfinished corner of which she was 
making a few feeble stiches, and looked at Uncle 
Isham with a troubled frown. She was certain that 
this was the work of old Mrs Keswick, who had 
succeeded, at last, in conjuring the young husband ; 
and the charm she had given him, and upon which 
she had relied to avert the ill will of ole miss,” had 
proved unavailing. The conjuring had been accom¬ 
plished so craftily and slyly, the bewitched plank 
in one place, and Mrs Keswick far off in another, 
that there had been no chance to use the counter¬ 
acting charm. And yet Aunt Patsy had thought 
it a good charm, a very good one indeed. 

Early in her married life Mrs Keswick had been 
the mother of a little girl. It had died when it was 
very small, and it was the only child she ever 
had. Of this infant she preserved, as a memento, 
a complete suit of its clothes, which she regarded 


The Late Mrs Ntill. 


241 


with a feeling almost religious. Years ago, how¬ 
ever, Aunt Patsy, in order to protect herself against 
the conjuring powers of the mistress of the house, 
in which she then served as a sort of supervising 
cook, had possessed herself of the shoes belonging 
to the cherished suit of clothes. She knew the 
sacred light in which they were regarded by their 
owner, and she felt quite sure that if “ ole miss ” 
ever attempted, in one of her fits of anger, to exer¬ 
cise her power of limb twisting or back contortion 
upon her, that the sight of those little blue shoes 
would create a revulsion of feeling, and, as she put 
it to herself, stop her mighty short.” The shoes 
had never been missed, for the-box containing the 
suit was only opened on one day of the year, and 
then all the old lady could endure was a peep at the 
little white frock which covered the rest of the con¬ 
tents ; and Aunt Patsy well knew that the sight of 
those little blue shoes would be to her mistress 
like two little feet coming back from the grave. 

Patsy had been much too old to act as nurse to 
the infant, Annie Peyton, then regarded as the 
daughter of the house, but she had always felt for 
the child the deepest affection ; and now that she 
herself was so near the end of her career that she 
had little fear of being bewitched, she was willing to 
give up the safeguards she had so long possessed, 
in order that they might protect the man whom 
Miss Annie had loved and married. But they had 
failed, or rather it had been impossible to use them, 
and Miss Annie’s husband had been stricken down. 
r6 


242 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“ It’s pow’ful hard to git roun’ ole miss,” she 
groaned. She too much fur ole folks like I is.” 

At this remark Uncle Isham fired up. Although 
the conduct of his mistress troubled him at times 
very much he was intensely loyal to her, and he 
instantly caught the meaning of this aspersion 
against her. “Now, look h’yar, Aun’ Patsy,” he 
exclaimed, “wot you talkin’ ’bout? Wot ole miss 
got to do wid Mister Crof’ sprainin’ he ankle ? Ole 
miss warn’t dar; an’ when I done fotch him up to 
de house, she cut roun’ an’ do more fur him dan 
anybody else. She got de hot water, an’ she dipped 
de flannels in it, an’ she wrop up de ankle all herse’f, 
an’ when she got him all fixed comfable in de offis, 
she says to me, says she, ‘ Now, Isham, you wait on 
Mister Crof, an’ you gib him eberything he want, 
an’ when de cool ob de ebenin’ comes on you make 
a fire in dat fire-place, an’ stay whar he kin call you 
wheneber he wants you to wait on him.’ I didn’t 
eben come down h’yar till I axed him would he 
want me fur half an hour.” 

“Well,” said Aunt Patsy, her eyes softening a 
little, “ p’raps she didn’t do it dis time. It mout a 
been his own orkardness. I hopes to mussiful 
goodness dat dat was so. But wot fur you call him 
Mister Crof’ ? Is dat he fus’ name ? ” 

“ I reckon so,” said Isham. “ He one ob de fam’- 
ly now, an’ I reckon dey calls him by he fus’ name. 
An’ now, look h’yar, Aun’ Patsy, I wants you not 
to disremember dis h’yar. Don’ you go imaginin’ 
ebery time anything happens to folks, that ole miss 


The Late Mj's Null. 


243 


done been kunjerin’ ’em. Dat ain’t pious, an’ ’taint 
suitable fur a ole pusson like you, Aun’ Patsy, wot’s 
jus’ settin’ on de poach steps ob heaben, a waitin’ 
till somebody finds out you’s dar, an’ let’s you in.” 

Aunt Patsy turned her great spectacles full upon 
him, and then she said: “You, Isham, ef eber you 
gits a call to preach to folks, you jus’ sing out: ‘ Oh, 
Lor’, I aint fit ! ’ And den you go crack your head 
wid a mill-stone, fur fear you git called agin, fru mis¬ 
take.” 

Uncle Isham made no answer to this piece of ad¬ 
vice, but taking up some clothes which Aunt Patsy’s 
great granddaughter had washed and ironed for 
him, he left the cabin. He was a man much given 
to attending to his own business, and paying very 
little attention to thosfe affairs of his mistress’s 
household, with which he had no personal concern. 
When Mr Croft first came to the house he, as well as 
Aunt Patsy, had been told that it was Mr Null, the 
husband of Miss Annie ; and although not thinking 
much about it, he had always supposed this to be 
the case. But now it struck him as a very strange 
thing that Miss Annie did not attend to her hus¬ 
band, but allowed his mistress and himself to do 
everything that was done for him. It was a question 
which his mind was totally incapable of solving, but 
when he reached the house, he spoke to Letty on 
the subject. 

“ Bress your soul!” exclaimed that well-nourished 
person, “ dat’s not Mister Null, wot married Miss 
Annie. Dat's Mister Crof’, an’ he aint married to 


244 


The Late Mrs Null. 


nobody. Mister Null he aint come yet, but I reckon 
he’ll be along soon.” 

Well den,” exclaimed Isham, much surprised, 
how come Aun’ Patsy to take he for Miss Annie s 
husband ?” 

“ Oh, git out!” contemptuously exclaimed Letty, 
“ don’you go put no ’count on dem fool notions wot 
Aun’ Patsy got in she old head. Nobody knows 
how dey come dar, no more’n how dey eber manage 
to git out. ’Taint no use splainin nothin’ to Aun’ 
Patsy, an’ if she b’lieves dat’s Miss Annie’s husband, 
you can’t make her b’lieve it’s anybody else. Jes’ you 
lef her alone. Nuffin she .b’lieves aint gwine to hurt 
her.” 

And Isham, remembering his frequent ill success 
in endeavoring to make Aunt Patsy think as she 
ought to think, concluded that this was good 
advice. 

At the time of the conversation just mentioned, 
Lawrence was sitting in a large easy chair in front 
of the open door of the room of which he had been 
put in possession. His injured foot was resting upon 
a cushioned stool, a small table stood by him, on 
which were his cigar and match cases; a pitcher of 
iced water and a glass, and a late copy of a semi¬ 
weekly paper. Through the doorway, which was but 
two steps higher than the grass sward before it, his 
eyes fell upon a very pleasing scene. To the right 
was the house, with its vine-covered porch and 
several great oak trees overhanging it, which still 
retained their heavy foliage, although it was begin- 


The Late Mrs Null, 


245 


ning to*lose something of its summer green. In front 
of him, at the opposite end of the grassy yard, was 
the pretty little arbor in which he had told Mr Junius 
Keswick of the difficulties in the way of his speaking 
his mind to Miss March. Beyond the large garden, 
at the back of this arbor, stretched a wide field with 
a fringe of woods at its distant edge, gay with the 
colors of autumn. The sky was bright and blue, 
and fair white clouds moved slowly over its surface; 
the air was sunny and warm, with bumble-bees hum¬ 
ming about some late-flowering shrubs; and, high 
in the air, floated two great turkey-buzzards, with a 
beauty of motion surpassed by no other flying thing, 
with never a movement of their wide-spread wings, 
except to give them the necessary inclination as 
they rose with the wind, and then turned and de¬ 
scended in a long sweep, only to rise again and com¬ 
plete the circle; sailing thus for hours, around and 
around, their shadows moving over the fields below 
them. 

Fearing that he had sustained some injury more 
than a mere sprain, Lawrence had had the Hewlett’s 
doctor summoned, and that general practitioner had 
come and gone, after having assured Mr Croft that 
no bones had been broken; that Mrs Keswick’s 
treatment was exactly what it should be, and that 
all that was necessary for him was to remain quiet 
for a few days, and be very careful not to use the 
injured ankle. Thus he had the prospect of but a 
short confinement; he felt no present pain ; and there 
was nothing of the sick-room atmosphere in his sur- 


246 


The Late Mrs Null, 


roundings, for his position close to the door almost 
gave him the advantage of sitting in the open air of 
this bright autumnal day. 

But Lawrence’s mind dwelt not at all on these 
ameliorating circumstances; it dwelt only upon the 
fact that he was in one house and Miss March was in 
another. It was impossible for him to go to her, and 
he had no reason to believe that she would come to 
him. Under ordinary circumstances it would be natu- 
ral enough for her to look in upon him and inquire 
into his condition, but now the case was very differ¬ 
ent. She knew that he desired to see her, that he 
had been coming to her when he met with his acci¬ 
dent, and she knew, too, exactly what he wanted to 
say ; and it was not to be supposed that a lady would 
come to a man to be wooed, especially this lady, 
who had been in such an unfavorable humor when 
he had wooed her the day before. 

But it was quite impossible for Lawrence, at this 
most important crisis of his life, to sit without 
action for three or four days, during which time 
it was not unlikely that Miss March might go 
home. But what was he to do ? It would be re- 
diculous to think of sending for her, she knowing 
for what purpose she was wanted; and as for writing 
a letter, that did not suit him at all. There was too 
much to be explained, too much to be urged, too 
much to be avowed, and, probably, too many con¬ 
tingencies to be met, for him to even consider the sub¬ 
ject of writing a letter. A proposal on paper would 
most certainly bring a rejection on paper. He could 


The Late Mrs Ntdl. 


247 


think of no plan ; he must trust to chance. If his 
lucky star, and it had shone a good deal in his life, 
should give him an opportunity of speaking to her, 
he would lose not an instant in broaching the impor¬ 
tant subject. He was happy to think he had a friend 
in the old lady. Perhaps she might bring about the 
desired interview. But although this thought was 
encouraging, he could not but tremble when he re¬ 
membered the very plain and unvarnished way she 
had of doing such things. 

While these thoughts were passing through his 
mind, a lady came out upon the porch, and de¬ 
scended the steps. At the first sight of her through 
the vines, Lawrence had thought it might be Miss 
March, and his heart had given a jump. But it was 
not; it was Mrs Null, and she came over the grass 
toward him, and stopped in front of his door. 
“ How are you feeling now ? ” she asked. “ Does 
your foot still hurt you ? ” 

“ Oh, no,” said Lawrence, “ I am in no pain. The 
only thing that troubles me is that I have to stay 
just here.” 

“ It might have been better on some accounts,” 
said she, “ if you had been taken into the house; but 
it would have hurt you dreadfully to go up stairs, 
unless Uncle Isham carried you on his back, which 
I don’t believe he could do.” 

“ Of course it’s a great deal better out here,” said 
Lawrence. “In fact this is a perfectly charming place 
to be laid up in, but I want to get about. I want 
to see people.” 


248 


The Late Mrs Null, 


“ Many people ? ” asked she, with a significant 
little smile. 

Lawrence smiled in return. ^‘You must know, 
Mrs Null, from what I have told you,” he said, 
“ that there is one person I want to see very much, 
and that is why I am so annoyed at being kept here 
in this chair.” 

“You must be of an uncommonly impatient turn 
of mind,” she said, “ for you haven’t been here three 
hours, altogether, and hundreds of persons sit still 
that long, just because they want to.” 

“ I don’t want to sit still a minute,” said Lawrence. 
“ I very much wish to speak to Miss March. 
Couldn’t you contrive an opportunity for me to do 
so?” 

“ It is possible that I might,” she said, “ but I 
won’t. Haven’t I told you that I don’t approve of 
this affair of yours ? My cousin is in love with Miss 
March, and all I should do for you would be di¬ 
rectly against him. Aunt so managed things this 
morning that I was actually obliged to give you an 
opportunity to be with her, but I had intended 
going with Roberta to the woods, as she had asked 
me to do.” 

“ You are very cruel,” said Lawrence. 

“ No, I am not,” said she, “ I am only just.” 

“ I explained to you yesterday,” said he, “ that 
your course of thinking and acting is not just, and is 
of no possible advantage to anybody. How can it 
injure your cousin if Miss March refuses me and I 
go away and never see her again ? And, if she ac- 


The Late Mrs Null. 


249 


cepts me, then you should be glad that I had put an 
end to your cousin’s pursuit of a woman who does 
not love him.” 

“ That is nonsense,” said she. “ I shouldn’t be 
glad at all to see him disappointed. I should feel 
like a traitor if I helped you. But I did not come 
to talk about these things. I came to ask you what 
you would have for dinner.” 

“ I had an idea,” said Lawrence, not regarding 
this remark, that you were a young lady of a 
kindly disposition.” 

“ And you don’t think so, now ? ” she said. 

No,” answered Lawrence, “ I cannot. I cannot 
think a woman kind who will refuse to assist a 
man, situated as I am, to settle the most important 
question of his life, especially as I have told you, be¬ 
fore, that it is really to the interest of the one you 
are acting for, that it should be settled.” 

Miss Annie, still standing in front of the door, now 
regarded Lawrence with a certain degree of thought- 
fullness on her countenance, which presently changed 
to a half smile. “ If I were perfectly sure,” she 
said, that she would reject you, I would try to get 
her here, and have the matter settled, but I don’t 
know her very well yet, and can’t feel at all certain 
as to what she might do. 

I like your frankness,” said Lawrence, but, as 
I said before, you are very cruel.” 

Not at all,” said she, I am very kind, only-” 

‘‘ You don’t show it,” interrupted Lawrence. 

At this Miss Annie laughed. “ Kindness isn’t of 



250 


The Late Mrs Null, 


much use, if it is shut up, is it ? ” she said. I sup¬ 
pose you think it is one of those virtues that we 
ought to act out, as well as feel, if we want any credit. 
And now, isn't there something I can do for you 
besides bringing another man’s sweetheart to you? ” 

Lawrence smiled. “ I don’t believe she is his 
sweetheart,” he said, “ and I want to find out if I 
am right.” 

“ It is my opinion,” said Miss Annie, that you 
ought to think more about your sprained ankle and 
your general health, than about having your mind 
settled by Miss March. I should think that keep¬ 
ing your blood boiling, in this way, would inflame 
your joints.” 

“ The doctor didn’t tell me what to think about,” 
said Lawrence. “ He only said I must not walk.” 

“ I haven’t heard yet,” said Miss Annie, “ what 
you would like to have to eat.” 

“ I don’t wish to give the slightest trouble,” an¬ 
swered Lawrence. What do you generally give 
people in such scrapes as this? Tea and toast?” 

Annie laughed. ^‘Nonsense,” said she. What 
you want is the best meal you can get. Aunt 
said if there was anything you particularly liked 
she would have it made for you.” 

“ Do not think of such a thing,” said Lawrence. 
‘‘ Give me just what the family has.” 

“Would you like Miss March to bring it out to 
you ? ” she asked. 

“ The word cruel cannot express your disposition,” 
said Lawrence. “ I pity Mr Null.” 


The Late Mrs NulL 


251 


“ Poor man,” said she ; “ but it would be a good 
thing for you if you could keep your mind as quiet 
as his is.” And with that she went into the house. 

After dinner, Miss March did come out to inquire 
into Mr. Croft’s condition, but she was accompanied 
by Mrs Keswick. Lawrence invited the ladies to 
come in and be seated, but Roberta stood on the 
grass in front of the door, as Miss Annie had done, 
while Mrs Keswick entered the room, looked into 
the ice-water pitcher, and examined things generally, 
to see if Uncle Isham had been guilty of any sins of 
omission. 

“ Do you feel quite at ease now ? ” said Miss March. 

“ My ankle don’t trouble me,” said Lawrence, 
“ but I never felt so uncomfortable and dissatisfied 
in my life.” And with these latter words he gave 
the lady a look which was intended to be, and which 
probably was, full of meaning to her. 

“Wouldn’t you like some books?” said Mrs Kes¬ 
wick, now appearing from the back of the room. 
“You haven’t anything to read. There are plenty 
of bo.oks in the house, but they are all old.” 

“ I think those are the most delightful of books,” 
said Miss March. “ I have been looking over the 
volumes on your shelves, Mrs Keswick. I am sure 
there are a good many of them Mr Croft would like 
to read, even if he has read them before. There are 
lots of queer old-time histories and biographies, and 
sets of bound magazines, some of them over a hun¬ 
dred years old. Would you like me to select some 
for you, Mr Croft ? Or shall I write some of the 


252 


The Late Mrs Null. 


titles on a slip of paper, and let you select for your¬ 
self?” 

“ I shall be delighted,” said Lawrence, “ to have 
you make a choice for me ; and I think the list 
would be the better plan, because books would be so 
heavy to carry about.” 

I will do it immediately,” said Miss March, and 
she walked rapidly to the house. 

^‘Now then,” said Mrs Keswick, “ I’ll put a chair 
out here on the grass, close to the door. It’s shady 
there, and I should think it would be pleasant for 
both of you, if she would sit there and read to you 
out of those books. She is a fine woman, that Miss 
March—a much finer woman than I thought she 
could be, before I knew her.” 

“She is, indeed,” said Lawrence. 

“I suppose you think she is the finest woman in 
the world ? ” said the old lady, with a genial grin. 

“ What makes you suppose so ? ” asked Lawrence. 

“ Haven’t I eyes ? ” said Mrs Keswick. “ But you 
needn’t make any excuses. You have made an ex¬ 
cellent choice, and I hope you may succeed in get¬ 
ting her. Perhaps you have succeeded ? ” she added, 
giving Lawrence an earnest look, with a question in 
it. 

Lawrence did not immediately reply. It was not 
in his nature to confide his affairs to other people, 
and yet he had done so much of it, of late, that he 
did not see why he should make an exception 
against Mrs Keswick, who was, indeed, the only per¬ 
son who seemed inclined to be friendly to his suit. 


The Late Mrs Null. 


253 


He might as well let her know how matters stood. 
“ No,” he said, I have not yet succeeded, and I am 
very sorry that this accident has interfered with my 
efforts to do so.” 

“Don’t let it interfere,” said the old lady, her eyes 
sparkling, while her purple sun-bonnet was suddenly 
and severely bobbed. “You have just as good a 
chance now as you ever had, and all you have to do 
is to make the most of it. When she comes out 
here to read to you, you can talk to her just as 
well as if you were in the woods, or on top of a hill. 
Nobody’ll come here to disturb you; I’ll take care 
of that.” 

“You are very kind,” said Lawrence, somewhat 
wondering at her enthusiasm. 

“ I intended to go away and leave her here with 
you,” continued-Mrs Keswick, “ if I could find a good 
opportunity to do so, but she hit on the best plan 
herself. And now I’ll be off and leave the coast 
clear. I will come again before dark and put some 
more of that stuff on your ankle. If you want any¬ 
thing, ring this bell, and if Isham doesn’t hear you, 
somebody will call him. He has orders to keep about 
the house.” 

“ You are putting me under very great obligations 
to you, madam,” said Lawrence. 

But the old lady did not stop to hear any thanks, 
and hastened to clear the coast. 

Lawrence had to wait a long time for his list of 
books, but at last it came ; and, much to his surprise 
and chagrin, Mrs Null brought it. “Miss March 


254 


The Late Mrs Null. 


asked me to give you this/' she said, so that you 
can pick out just what books you want" 

Lawrence took the paper, but did not look at it. 
He was deeply disappointed and hurt. His whole 
appearance showed it. 

“You don't seem glad to get it," said Miss Annie. 

Lawrence looked at her, his face darkening. “ Did 
you persuade Miss March," he said, “ to stay in the 
house and let you bring this?" 

“ Now, Mr Croft," said the young lady, a very de¬ 
cided flush coming into her face, “ that is going too 
far. You have no right to accuse me of such a thing. 
I am not going to help in your love affairs, but I 
don't intend to be mean about it, either. Miss March 
asked me to bring that list, and at first I wouldn’t 
do it, for I knew, just as well as I know anything, 
that you expected her to come to you with it, and I 
was very sure you wanted to see her more than the 
paper. I refused two or three times, but she said, at 
last, that if I didn’t take it, she’d send it by some 
one in the house; so I just picked it up and brought 
it right along. I don’t like her as much as I did." 

“ Why not ? " asked Lawrence. 

“You needn’t accept a man if you don’t want 
him,” said Miss Annie, “but there is no need of 
being cruel to him, especially when he is laid up. 
If she didn’t intend to come out to you again, she 
ought not to have made you believe so. You did 
expect her to come, didn’t you ?’’ 

“ Most certainly," said Lawrence, in rather a dole¬ 
ful tone. 



The Late Mrs Null 


255 


‘‘Yes, and there is the chair she was to sit in,” 
said Miss Annie, “while you said seven words about 
the books and ten thousand about the way your 
heart was throbbing. I see Aunt Keswick’s hand 
in that, as plain as can be. I don't say I’d put her 
in that chair if I could do it, but I certainly am 
sorry she disappointed you so. Would you like 
to have any of those books? If you would. I’ll 
get them for you.” 

“I am much obliged, Mrs Null,” said Lawrence, 
“ but I don’t think I care for any books. And let 
me say that I am very sorry for the way I spoke 
to you, just now.” 

“Oh, don’t mention that, ’ said she. “ If I’d been 
in your place, I should ha\e been mad enough to 
say anything. But it’s no use to sit here and be 
grumpy. You’d better let me go and get you a 
book. The “ Critical Magazine” for 1767 and 1768, 
is on that list, and I know there are lots of queer, 
interesting things in it, but it takes a good while 
to hunt them out from the other things for which 
you would not care at all. And then there are all the 
“ Spectators,” and “ Ramblers,” and “ The World 
Displayed” in eight volumes, which, from what I 
saw when I looked through it, seems to be a dif¬ 
ferent kind of world from the one I live in; and 
there are others that you will see on your list. But 
there is one book which I have been reading lately 
which I think you will find odder and funnier than 
any of the rest. It is the “ Geographical Grammar 
by Mr Salmon. Suppose I bring you that. It is a 


256 


The Late Mrs Null. 


description of the whole world, written more than 
a hundred years ago, by an Irish gentleman who, I 
think, never went anywhere.” 

“ Thank you,” said Lawrence, “ I shall be obliged 
to you if you will be kind enough to bring me that 
one.” He was glad for her to go away, even for a 
little time, that he might think. The smart of the 
disappointment caused by the non-appearance of 
Miss March was beginning to subside a little. Look¬ 
ing at it more quietly and reasonably, he could see 
that, in her position, it would be actually unmaidenly 
for her to come to him by herself. It was altogether 
another thing for this other girl, and, therefore, 
perhaps it was quite proper to send, her. But, in 
spite of whatever reasonableness there might have 
been in it, he chafed under this propriety. It would 
have been far better, he thought, if she had come 
and told him that she could not possibly accept him, 
and that nothing more must be said about it. But 
then he did not believe, if she had given him time 
to say the words he wished to say, that she would 
have come to such a decision ; and as he called up 
her lovely face and figure, as it stood framed in the 
open doorway, with a background of the sunlit 
arbor and fields, the gorgeous distant foliage, with 
the blue sky and its white clouds and circling 
birds, he thought of the rapture and ecstasy which 
would have come to him, if she had listened to his 
words, and had given him but a smile of encourage¬ 
ment. 

But here came Mrs Null, with a fat brown book 


The Late Mrs Null, 


^57 


in her hand. “ One of the funniest things,” she 
said, as she came to the door, “ is Mr Salmon’s 
chapter on paradoxes. He thinks it would be 
quite improper to issue a book of this kind without 
alluding to geographical paradoxes. Listen to this 
one.” And then she read to him the elucidation of 
the apparent paradox that there is a certain place 
in this world where the wind always blows from 
the south ; and another explaining the statement 
that in certain cannibal islands the people eat them¬ 
selves. “ There is something he says about Vir¬ 
ginia,” said she, turning over the pages, “which I 
want you to be sure to read.” 

“ Won’t you sit down,” said Lawrence, “and read 
to me some of those extracts? You know just 
where to find them.” 

“ That chair wasn’t put there for me,” said Miss 
Annie, with a smile. 

“ Nonsense,” said Lawrence. “ Won’t you please 
sit down ? I ought to have asked you before. Per¬ 
haps it is too cool for you, out there.” 

“ Oh, not at all,” said she. “ The air is still quite 
warm.” And she took her seat on the chair which 
was placed close to the door-step, and she read to 
him some of the surprising and interesting facts 
which Mr Salmon had heard, in a Dublin coffee¬ 
house, about Virginia and the other colonies, and also 
some of those relating to the kindly way in v/hich 
slave-holders in South America, when they killed 
a slave to feed their hounds, would send a quarter 
to a neighbor, expecting some day to receive a 


17 


258 


The Late Mrs Null. 


1 


similar favor in return. When they had laughed 
over these, she read some very odd and surprising 
statements about Southern Europe, and the people 
of far-away lands ; and so she went on, from one 
thing to another, talking a good deal about what 
she had read, and always on the point of stopping 
and giving the book to Lawrence, until the short 
autumnal afternoon began to draw to its close, 
and he told her that it was growing too chilly 
for her to sit out on the grass any longer. 

‘‘Very well,” said she, closing the book, and hand¬ 
ing it to him, “ you can read the rest of it yourself, 
and if you want any other books on the list, just let 
me know by Uncle Isham, and I will send them to 
you. He is coming now to see after you. I won¬ 
der,” she said, stopping for a moment as she turned 
to leave, “ if Miss March had been sitting in that 
chair, if you would have had the heart to tell her to 
go away; or if you would have let her sit still, and 
take cold.” 

Lawrence smiled, but very slightly. “ That sub¬ 
ject,” said he, “ is one on which I don’t joke.” 

“Goodness!” exclaimed Miss Annie, clasping her 
hands and gazing with an air of comical commis¬ 
eration at Mr Croft’s serious face. “ I should think 
not 1 ” and away she went. 

Just before supper time, when Lawrence’s door 
had been closed, and his lamp lighted, there came a 
knock, and Mrs Keswick appeared. “ That plan of 
mine didn’t work,” she said, “ but I will bring Miss 
March out here, and manage it so that she’ll have to 


The Late Mrs NtilL 


259 


stay till I come back. I have an idea about that. 
All that you have to do is to be ready when you get 
your chance.” 

Lawrence thanked her, and assured her he would 
be very glad to have a chance, although he hoped, 
without much ground for it, that Roberta would not 
see through the old lady’s schemes. 

Mrs Keswick lotioned and rebandaged the 
sprained ankle, and then she said. “ I think it would 
be pleasant if we were all to come out here after 
supper, and have a game of whist. I used to play 
whist, and shouldn’t mind taking a hand. You could 
have the table drawn up to your chair, and,—let 
me see—yes, there are three more chairs. It won’t 
be like having her alone with you,” she said, with the 
cordial grin in which she sometimes indulged, “ but 
you will have her opposite to you for an hour, and 
that will be something.” 

Lawrence approved heartily of the whist party, 
and assured Mrs Keswick that she was his guardian 
angel. 

“ Not much of that,” she said, “ but I have been 
told often enough that I’m a regular old match¬ 
maker, and I expect I am.” 

^‘If you make this match,” said Lawrence, “you 
will have my eternal gratitude.” 

The supper sent out to Lawrence was a very 
good one, and the anticipation of what was to fol¬ 
low made him enjoy it still more, for his passion 
had now reached such a point that even to look at 
his love, although he could only speak to her of 


26 o 


The Late Mrs Ntill, 


trumps and of tricks, would be a refreshing solace 
which would go down deep into his thirsty soul. 

But bedtime and old Isham came, and the whist 
players came not. It needed no one to tell Law¬ 
rence whose disinclination it was that had pre¬ 
vented their coming. 

“ I reckon,” said Uncle Isham, as he looked in at 
Letty’s cabin on his way to his own, “ dat dat ar 
Mister Crof aint much use to gittin’ hisse’f hurt. 
All de time I was helpin’ him to go to bed he was 
a growlin’ like de bery debbil.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


Although October in Southern Virginia can 
generally be counted upon as a very charming 
month, it must not be expected that her face will 
wear one continuous smile. On the day after Law¬ 
rence Croft’s misadventure the sky was gray with 
low-hanging clouds, there was a disagreeable wind 
from the north-east, and the air was filled with the 
slight drizzle of rain. The morning was so cool that 
Lawrence was obliged to keep his door shut, and 
Uncle Isham had made him a small wood fire on 
the hearth. As he sat before this fire, after break¬ 
fast, his foot still upon a stool, and vigorously 
puffed at a cigar, he said to himself that it mat¬ 
tered very little to him whether the sun shone, or 
all the rains of heaven descended, so long as Roberta 
March would not come out to him ; and that she 
did not intend to come, rain or shine, was just as 
plain as the marks on the sides of the fireplace, 
probably made by the heels of Mr Junius Keswick 
during many a long, reflective smoke. 

On second thoughts, however, Lawrence concluded 
that a rainy day was worse for his prospects than a 
bright one. If the sun shone, and everything was 
fair. Miss March might come across the grassy yard 
and might possibly stop before his open door to bid 


262 


The Late Mrs Null. 


him good morning, and to tell him that she was 
sorry that a headache had prevented her from coming 
to play whist the evening before. But this last, he 
presently admitted, was rather too much to expect, 
for he did not think she was subject to headaches, 
or to making excuses. At any rate he might have 
caught sight of her, and if he had, he certainly would 
have called to her, and would have had his say 
with her, even had she persisted in standing six 
feet from the door-step. But now this dreary day 
had shut his door and put an interdict upon strolls 
across the grass. Therefore it was that he must 
resign any opportunity, for that day, at least, of 
soothing the harrowing perturbations of his passion 
by either the comforting warmth of hope, or by 
the deadening frigidity of a consummated despair. 
This last, in truth, he did not expect, but still, if it 
came, it would be better than perturbations; they 
must be soothed at any cost. But how to incur this 
cost was a difficult question altogether. So, puffing, 
gazing into the fire, and knitting his brows, he sat 
and thought. 

As a good-looking young man, as a well-dressed 
young man, as an educated and cultured man, as a 
man of the clubs, and of society, and, when occasion 
required, as a very sensible man of business, Mr Croft 
might be looked upon as essentially a commonplace 
personage, and in our walks abroad we meet a great 
many like him. But there dwelt within him a cer¬ 
tain disposition, which, at times, removed him to 
quite a distance from the arena in which common- 


The Late Mrs NtilL 


263 

place people go through their prescribed perform¬ 
ances. He would come to a determination, gener¬ 
ally quite suddenly, to attain a desired end in his 
own way, without any reference to traditionary or 
conventional methods; and the more original and 
startling these plans the better he liked it. 

This disposition it was which made Lawrence read 
with so much interest the account of the defeated 
general who made the cavalry charge into the camp 
of his victorious enemy. Defeat had been his, all 
through his short campaign, and it now seemed that 
the time had come to make another bold effort to 
get the better of his bad luck. As he could not woo 
Miss March himself, he must get some one else to 
do it for him, or, if not actually to woo the lady, to 
get her at least into such a frame of mind that she 
would allow him to woo her, even in spite of his 
present disadvantages. This would be a very bold 
stroke, but Lawrence put a good deal of faith in it. 

If Miss March were properly talked to by one of 
her own sex, she might see, as perhaps she did not 
now see, how cruel was her line of conduct toward 
him, and might be persuaded to relent, at least 
enough to allow his voice to reach her; and that was 
all he asked for. He had not the slightest doubt 
that the widow Keswick would gladly consent to 
carry any message he chose to send to Miss March, 
and, more than that, to throw all the force of her 
peculiar style of persuasion into the support of his 
cause. But this, he knew very well, would finish 
the affair, and not at all in the way he desired. The 


264 


The Late Mrs Null, 


person he wanted to act as his envoy was Mrs Null. 
To be sure, she had refused to act for him, but he 
thought he could persuade her. She was quiet, she 
was sensible, and could talk very gently and confid¬ 
ingly when she chose ; she would say just what he 
told her to say, and if a contingency demanded that 
she should add anything, she would probably do it 
very prudently. But then it would be almost as dif¬ 
ficult to communicate with her as with Miss March. 

While he was thus thinking, in came the old lady, 
very cross. “You didn’t get any rubber of whist 
last night, did you ? ” said she, without salutatory 
preface. “ But I can tell you it wasn’t my fault. I 
did all that I could, and more than I ought, to 
make her come, but she just put her foot down and 
wouldn’t stir an inch, and at last I got mad and went 
to bed. I don’t know whether she saw it or not, but 
I was as mad as hops; and I am that way yet. I 
had a plan that would have given you a chance to 
talk to her, but that ain’t any good, now that it is 
raining. Let me look at your ankle; I hope that 
is getting along all right, any way.” 

While the old lady was engaged in ministering to 
his needs, he told her of his plan. He said he 
wished to send a message to Miss March by some 
one, and if he could get the message properly deliv¬ 
ered, it would help him very much. 

“ I’ll take it,” said she, looking up suddenly from 
the piece of soft, old linen she was folding; “ I’ll go 
to her this very minute, and tell her just what you 
want me to.” 


The Late Mrs Null, 


265 


“ Mrs Keswick,” said Lawrence, “ you are as kind 
as you can possibly be, but I do not think it would 
be right for you to go on an errand like this. Miss 
March might not receive you well, and that would 
annoy me very much. And, besides, to speak frankly, 
you have taken up my cause so warmly, and have 
been such a good friend to me, that I am afraid your 
earnest desire to assist me might perhaps carry you 
a little too far. Please do not misunderstand me. 
I don’t mean that you would say anything impru¬ 
dent, but as you are kind enough to say that you 
really desire this match, it will be very natural for 
you to show your interest in it to^a degree that would 
arouse Miss March’s opposition.” 

‘‘Yes, I see,” said the old lady, reflectively, “ she’d 
suspect what was at the bottom of my interest. 
She’s a sharp one. I’ve found that out. I reckon 
it will be better for me not to meddle with her. I 
came very near quarreling with her last night, and 
that wouldn’t do at all.” 

“You see, madam,” said Lawrence, well satisfied 
that he had succeeded in warding off the old lady’s 
offer without offending her, “ that I do not want any 
one to go to Miss March and make a proposal for me. 
I could do that in a letter. But I very much object 
to a letter. In fact it wouldn’t do at all. All I wish 
is, that some one, by the exercise of a little female 
diplomacy, should induce her to let me speak to her. 
Now, I think that Mrs Null might do this, very 
well.” V 

“ That is so,” said the old lady, who, having now 


266 


The Late Mrs Null. 


finished her bandaging, was seated on a chair by the 
fireplace. “ My niece is smart and quick, and could 
do this thing for you just as well as not. But she 
has her quips and her cranks, like the rest of us. I 
called her out of the room last night to know why 
she didn’t back me up better about the whist 
party, and she said she couldn’t see why a gentle¬ 
man, who hadn’t been confined to the house for quite 
a whole day, should be so desperately lonely that 
people must go to his room to play whist with 
him. It seemed to me exactly as if she thought 
that Mr Null wouldn’t like it. Mr Null indeed ! 
As if his wishes ai\d desires were to be considered 
in my house! I never mention that man now, and 
Annie does not speak of him either. What I want 
is that he shall stay away just as long as he will; and 
if he will only stay away long enough to make his 
absence what the law calls desertion, I’ll have those 
two divorced before they know it. Can you tell me, 
sir, how long a man must stay away from his wife 
before he can be legally charged v/ith desertion ?” 

“No, madam, I can not,” said Lawrence. “The 
laws, I believe, differ in the various States.” 

“Well, I’m going to make it my business to find 
out all about it,” said Mrs Keswick. “Mr Brandon 
has promised to attend to this matter for me, and 
I must write to him, to know what he has been 
doing. Well, Mrs Null and Miss March seem to be 
very good friends, and I dare say my niece could 
manage things so as to give you the chance you 
want. I’ll go to the house now, and send her over 


The Late Mrs Null, 267 

to you, so that you can tell her what you want her 
to say or do.” 

“ Do you think she will come, madam ? ” asked 
Lawrence. 

The old lady rose to her feet, and knitted her 
brows until something like a perpendicular mouth 
appeared on her forehead. “ No,” said she, “ now I 
come to think of it I don’t believe she will. In fact I 
know she won’t. Bother take it all, sir! What 
these young women want is a good whipping. Noth¬ 
ing else will ever bring them to their senses. 
What possible difference could it make to Mr Null 
whether she came to you and took a message for 
you, or whether she didn’t come ; especially in a 
case like this, when you can’t walk, or go to any¬ 
body?” 

‘‘ I don’t think it ought to make any difference 
whatever,” said Lawrence. “ In fact I don’t believe 
it would.” 

“ It’s no use talking about it, Mr. Croft,” said the 
old lady, moving toward the door. “I can go to 
my niece and talk to her, but the first thing I’d know 
I’d blaze out at her, and then, as like as not, she’d 
blaze back again, and then the next thing would be 
that she’d pack up her things and go off to hunt up 
her fertilizer agent. And that mustn’t be. I don’t 
want to get myself in any snarls, just now. There 
is nothing for you to do, Mr Croft, but to wait‘till 
it clears off, so that dainty young woman can come 
out of doors, and then I think I can manage it so 
that you can get a chance to speak to her.” 


✓ 


268 


The Late Mrs NulL 


“ I am very much obliged to you/' said Lawrence. 
“I suppose I must wait.” 

“I’ll see that Isham brings you a lot of dry hick¬ 
ory, so that you can have a cheerful fire, even if you 
can’t have cheerful company,” said Mrs Keswick, as 
she closed the door after her. 

Lawrence looked through the window at the sky, 
which gave no promise of clearing. And then he 
gazed into the fire, and considered his case. He had 
spent a large portion of his life in considering his 
case, and, therefore, the operation was a familiar one 
to him. This time the case was not a satisfactory 
one. Everything in this love affair with Miss March 
had gone on in a manner in which he had not in¬ 
tended, and of which he greatly disapproved. No 
one in the world could have planned the affair more 
prudently than he had planned it. He had been 
so careful not to do anything rash, that he had, 
at first, concealed, even from the lady herself, the 
fact that he was in love with her, and nothing 
could be farther from his thoughts and desires than 
that any one else should know of it. And yet, how 
had it all turned out? He had taken into his con¬ 
fidence Mr Junius Keswick, Mr Brandon, old Mrs 
Keswick, Mrs Null, as she wished to be called, and 
almost lastly, the lady herself. “ If I should lay 
bare my heart to the colored man, Isham,” he said 
to himself, “and the old centenarian in the cabin 
down there, I believe there would be no one else to 
tell. Oh, yes, there is Candy, and the anti-detective. 
By rights, they ought to know.” He did not include 


The Late Mrs Null, 269 

the good little Peggy in this category, because he 
was not aware that there was such a person. 

After about an hour of these doleful cogitations, 
he again turned to look out of his front window, 
which commanded a view of the larger house, when 
he saw, coming down the steps pf the porch, a not 
very tall figure, wrapped in a waterproof cloak, with 
the hood drawn over its head. He did not see the 
face of the figure, but he thought from the light 
way in which jt moved that it was Mrs Null; and 
when it stepped upon the grass and turned its head, 
he saw that he was right. 

“ Can her aunt have induced her to come to me?” 
was Lawrence’s first thought. But his second was 
very different, for she began to walk toward the 
large gate which led out of the yard. Instantly 
Lawrence rose, and hopped on one foot to the win¬ 
dow, where he tapped loudly on the glass. The 
lady turned, and then he threw up the sash. 

Won’t you step here, please ?” he called out. 

Without answering, she immediately came over 
the wet grass to the window. 

“ I have something to say to you,” he said, and 
I don’t want to keep you standing in the rain. 
Won’t you come inside for a few minutes?” 

“No, thank you,” said she. “I don’t mind a 
slight rain like this. I have lived so long in the city 
that I can’t imagine how country people can bear to 
shut themselves in, when it happens to be a little 
wet. I can’t stand it, and I am going out for a 
walk.” 


The Late Mrs Null, 


2 70 

“ It is a very sensible thing to do,” said Lawrence, 
“ and I wish I could go with you and have a good 
long talk.” 

“ What about ? ” said she. 

About Miss March.” 

Well, I am rather tired of that subject,” she said, 
“ and so I reckon it is just as well that you should 
stay here by your fire—I see you have one there— 
and that I should take my walk by myself.” 

“Mrs Null,” said Lawrence, “I w^nt to implore 
you to do a favor for me. I don’t see how it can be 
disagreeable to you, and I am sure it will confer the 
greatest possible obligation upon me.” 

“ What is it ? ” she asked. 

“ I want you to go to Miss March, and endeavor, 
in some way—you will know how, better than I can 
tell you—to induce her to let me have a few words 
with her. If it is only here at this open window it 
will do.” 

Mrs Null laughed. “Imagine,” she said, “a 
woman putting on a waterproof and overshoes, and 
coming out in the rain, to stand with an umbrella 
over her head, to be proposed to! That would be 
the funniest proceeding I ever heard of!” 

Lawrence could not help smiling, though he was 
not in the mood for it. “ It may seem amusing to 
you,” he said, “ but I am very much in earnest. I 
am in constant fear that she will go away while I 
am confined to this house. Do you know how long 
she intends to stay ? ” 

“ She has not told me,” was the answer. 


The Late Mrs Null, 


271 

If you will carry it,” he said, “ I will give you a 
message for her.” 

“ Why don’t you write it ? ” said Miss Annie. 

I don’t want to write anything,” he said. “ I 
should not know how it had been received, nor 
would it be likely to get me any satisfaction. I want 
a live, sympathetic medium, such as you are. Won’t 
you do this favor for me ?” 

“No, I won’t,” said Miss Annie, her very decided 
tone appearing to give a shade of paleness to her 
features. . “ How often must I tell you that I will 
not help you in this thing ? ” 

“ I would not ask you,” said Lawrence, “if I could 
help myself.” 

“ It is not right that you should ask me any 
more,” she said. “ I am not in favor of your coming 
here to court Miss March, while my cousin is away, 
and I should feel like a traitor if I helped you at all, 
especially if I were to carry messages to her. Of 
course, I am very sorry for you, shut up here, and I 
will do anything I can to mak: you more comfortable 
and contented ; but what you ask is too hard for 
me.” And, as she said this, a little air of trouble 
came into the large eyes with which she was stead¬ 
fastly regarding him. “ I don’t want to seem unkind 
to you, and I wish you would ask me something 
that I can do for you. I’ll walk down to Howlett’s 
and get you anything you may like to have. I’ll 
bring you a lot of novels which I found in the house, 
and which I expect, anyway, you will like better than 
those old-time books. And I’ll cook you anything 


272 


The Late Mrs Null, 


that is in the • cook-book. But I really cannot go 
wooing for you, and if you ask me to do that, every 
time I come near you, I really must-” 

‘‘My dear Mrs Null,” interrupted Lawrence, “ I 
promise not to say any more to you on this subject. 
I see it is distasteful to you, and I beg your pardon 
for having mentioned it so often. You have been 
very kind to me, indeed, and I should be exceed¬ 
ingly sorry to do anything to offend you. It would 
be very bad for me to lose one of my friends, now 
that I am shut up in this box, and feel so very de¬ 
pendent.” 

“ Oh, indeed,” said Miss Annie. “ But I suppose 
if you were able to step around, as you used to do, 
it wouldn’t matter whether you offended me or 
not.” 

“Mrs Null,” said Lawrence, “you know I did not 
mean anything like that. Do you intend to be 
angry with me, no matter what I say?” 

“Not a bit of it,” she answered, with a little smile 
that brought back to her face that warm brightness 
which had grown upon it since she had come down 
here. “ I haven’t the least wish in the world to be 
angry with you, and I promise you I won’t be, pro¬ 
vided you’ll stop everlastingly asking me to go about 
helping you to make love to people.” 

Lawrence laughed. “Very good,” said he. “I 
have promised to ask nothing more of that sort. 
Let us shake hands on it.” 

He stretched his hand from the window, and Miss 
Annie withdrew from the folds of her waterproof a 



The Late Null, 


273 

very soft and white little hand, and put it into his. 
“ And now I must be off,” she said. “ Are you cer¬ 
tain you don’t want anything from the store at 
Howlett’s?” 

‘‘ Surely, you are not going as far as that,” he said. 

“ Not if you don’t want anything,” she answered. 
‘‘ Have you tobacco enough to last through your 
imprisonment ? They keep it.” 

'‘Now, miss,” said Lawrence; “do you want to 
make me angry by supposing I would smoke any’ 
tobacco that they sell in that country store?” 

“ It ought to be better than any other,” said Miss 
Annie. “ They grow it in the fields all about here, 
and the storekeepers can get it perfectly fresh and 
pure, and a great deal better for you, no doubt, than 
the stuff they manufacture in the cities.” 

"When you learn to smoke,” said Lawrence, 
“ your opinion concerning tobacco will be more 
valuable.” 

“ Thank you,” she said, “ and I will wait till then 
before I give you any more of it. Good morning.” 
And away she went. 

Lawrence shut down the window, and hopped 
back to the fire. “ There is my last chance gone,” 
said he to himself. “ I suppose I may as well take 
old Mrs Keswick’s advice, and wait for fair weather. 
But, even then, who can say what sort of sky Roberta 
March will show?” And, not being able to answer 
this question, he put two fresh sticks on the fire, and 
then sedately sat and watched their gradual annihila¬ 
tion. 


18 


2 74 


The Late Mrs NtilL 


As for Miss Annie, she took her walk, and stepped 
along the road as lightly and blithely as if the skies 
had been blue, and the sun shining; and almost 
before she knew it, she had reached the store at 
Hewlett’s. Ascending the high steps to the porch, 
quite deserted on this damp, unpleasant morning, 
she entered the store, the proprietor of which imme¬ 
diately jumped up from the mackerel kit at the 
extreme end of the room, where he had been sitting 
in converse with some of his neighbors, and hurried 
behind the counter. 

“ Have you any tea,” said Miss Annie, better 
than the kind which you usually sell to Mrs Kes¬ 
wick?” 

“No, ma’am,” said he. “We send her the very 
best tea we have.” 

“I am not finding fault with it,” she said, “but 
I thought you might have some extra kind, more 
expensive than people usually buy for common 
use.” 

“ No, ma’am,” said he, “ there is fancy teas of that 
kind, but you’d have to send to Philadelphia or New 
York for them.” 

“ How long would that take?” she asked. 

“ I reckon it would be four or five days before 
you’d get it, ma’am,” said the storekeeper. 

“ I am afraid,” said Miss Annie, looking reflectively 
along the counter, “ that that would be too long.” 
And then she turned to go, but suddenly stopped. 
“ Have you any guava jelly?” she asked. 

The man smiled. “ We don’t have no call for any. 


The Late Mrs Null, 


275 


thing as fancy as that, ma’am,” he said. “ Is there 
anything else ?” 

“ Not to-day,” answered Miss Annie, after throw¬ 
ing a despairing glance upon the rolls of calicoes, 
the coils of clothes-lines, the battered tin boxes of 
tea and sugar, the dusty and chimneyless kerosene 
lamps, and the long rows of canned goods with their 
gaudy labels; and then she departed. 

When she had gone, the storekeeper returned to 
his seat on the mackerel kit, and was accosted by a 
pensive neighbor in high boots who sat upon the up¬ 
turned end of a case of brogans. “ You didn’t make 
no sale that time, Peckett,” said he. 

“No,” said the storekeeper, “her idees is a little 
too fancy for our stock of goods.” 

“Whar’s her husband, anyway?” asked a stout, 
elderly man in linen trousers and faded alpaca coat, 
who'was seated on two boxes of pearl starch, one on 
top of the other. “ I’ve heard that he was a mem¬ 
ber of the legislatur’. Is that so ? ” 

“ He’s not that, you can take my word for it,” 
said Tom Peckett. “Old Miss Keswick give me to 
understand that he was in the fertilizing business.” 

“ That ought to be a good thing for the old lady,” 
said the man on the starch boxes. “ She’ll git a dis¬ 
count off her gwarner.” 

“ I never did see,” said the pensive neighbor on 
the brogan case, “ how such things do git twisted. 
It was only yesterday that I met a man at Tyson’s 
Mill, who’d just come over from the Valley, and he 
said he’d seen this Mr Noles over thar. He’s a 


276 


The Late Mrs Null, 


hoss doctor, and he’s going up through all the farms 
along than” 

“ I reckon when he gits up as fur as he wants to 
go,” said the man on the starch boxes, “ he’ll come 
here and settle fur awhile.” 

“That won’t be so much help to the old lady,” 
said the storekeeper, “ for it wouldn’t pay to keep 
a neffy-in-law just to doctor one sorrel horse and a 
pa’r o’ oxen.” 

“ I reckon his wife must be ’spectin’ him,” said 
the man on the brogan case, “ from her cornin’ after 
fancy vittles.” 

“ If he do come,” said the stout, elderly neighbor, 
“ I wish you’d let me know, Tom Peckett, fur my 
black mar has got a hitch in her shoulder I can’t 
understand, and I’d like him to look at her.” 

The storekeeper smiled at the pensive man, and 
the pensive man smiled back at the storekeeper. 
“You needn’t trouble yourself about that young 
woman’s husband,” said Mr Peckett. “ There’ll be 
a horse doctor coming along afore you know it, 
and he’ll attend to that old mar of yourn without 
chargin’ you a cent.” 


CHAPTER XXL 


The second afternoon of Lawrence Croft’s con¬ 
finement in the little building in Mrs Keswick’s yard, 
passed drearily enough. The sky retained its sombre 
covering of clouds, and the rain came down in a 
melancholy, capricious way, as if it were tears shed 
by a child who was crying because it was bad. The 
monotony of the slowly moving hours was broken 
only by a very brief visit from the old lady, who was 
going somewhere in the covered spring wagon, and 
who looked in, before she started, to see if her pa¬ 
tient wanted anything; and by the arrival of a 
bundle of old novels sent by Mrs Null. These 
books Lawrence looked over with indifferent in¬ 
terest, hoping to find one among them that was 
not a love story, but he was disappointed. They 
were all based upon, and most of them permeated 
with, the tender passion, and Lawrence was not in 
the mood for reading about that sort of thing. A 
person afflicted with a disease is not apt to find 
agreeable occupation in reading hospital reports 
upon his particular ailment. 

The novels were put aside, and although Lawrence 
felt that he had smoked almost too much during 
that day, he was about to light another cigar, when 
he heard a carriage drive into the yard. Turning to 


278 


The Late Mrs Null, 


the window he saw a barouche, evidently a hired 
one, drawn by a pair of horses, very lean and bony, 
but with their heads reined up so high that they 
had an appearance of considerable spirit, and driven 
by a colored man, sitting upon a very elevated seat, 
with a jaunty air and a well-worn whip. The car¬ 
riage drove over the grass to the front of the house 
—there was no roadway in the yard, the short, crisp, 
tough grass having long resisted the occasional action 
of wheels and hoofs—and there stopping, a gentle¬ 
man, with a valise, got out. He paid the driver, who 
immediately turned the vehicle about, and drove 
away. The gentleman put his foot upon the bottom 
step as if he were about to ascend, and then, appar¬ 
ently changing his mind, he picked up his valise, and 
came directly toward the office, drawing a key from 
his pocket as he walked. It was Junius Keswick, 
and in a few minutes his key w^s heard in the lock. 
As it was not locked the key merely rattled, and 
Lawrence called out : “ Come in.” 

The door opened, and Junius looked in, evidently 
surprised. “ I beg your pardon,” said he, “ I didn’t 
know you were in here.” 

Please walk in,” said Lawrence. ‘‘ I know I am 
occupying your room, and it is I who should ask 
your pardon. But you see the reason why it was 
thought well that I should not have stairs to ascend.” 
And he pointed to his bandaged foot. 

“ Have you hurt yourself ?” asked Junius, with 
an air of concern. 

And then Lawrence gave an account of his acci- 


The Late Mrs Null. 


279 

dent, expressing at the same time his regret that he 
found himself occupying the room which belonged 
to the other. 

Oh, don’t mention that,” said Junius, who had 
taken a seat near the window. “ There are rooms 
enough in the house, and I shall be perfectly com¬ 
fortable. It was quite right in my aunt to have you 
brought in here, and I should have insisted upon it, 
myself, if I had been at home. I expected to be 
away for a week or more, but I have now come back 
on account of your letter.” 

“ Does that need explanation ? ” asked Lawrence. 

“ Not at all,” said Junius. “ I had no difficulty in 
understanding it, although I must say that it sur¬ 
prised me. But I came because I am not satisfied 
with the condition of things here, and I wish to be 
on the spot. I do not understand why you and Miss 
March should be invited here during my absence.” 

“ That I do not understand either,” said Lawrence, 
quickly, and I wish to impress it on your mind, Mr 
Keswick, that when I came here, I not only ex¬ 
pected to find you, but a party of invited guests. I 
will say, however, that I came with the express in¬ 
tention of meeting Miss March, and having that in¬ 
terview with her which I could not have in her 
uncle’s house.” 

‘‘ I was not entirely correct,” said Junius, ''when 
I said that I did not know why these rather peculiar 
arrangements had been made. My aunt is a very 
managing person, and I think I perceive her purpose 
in this piece of management.” 


28 o 


The Late Mrs JSfulL 


“ She is opposed to a marriage between you and 
Miss March?” 

Most decidedly,” said Junius. “ Has she told 
you so?” 

“No,” said Lawrence, “but it has gradually 
dawned upon me that such is the case. I believe 
she would be glad to have Miss March married, and 
out of your way.” 

Junius made no answer to this remark, but sat 
silent for a few moments. Then he said: “Well, 
have you settled it with Miss March?” 

“ Noj I have not,’’ said Lawrence. “ If the mat¬ 
ter had been decided, one way or the other, I should 
not be here. I have no right to trespass on your 
aunt’s hospitality, and I should have departed as 
soon as I had discovered Miss March’s sentiments 
in regard to me. But I have not been able to settle 
the matter, at all. I had one opportunity of see¬ 
ing the lady, and that was not a satisfactory inter¬ 
view. Yesterday morning, I made another attempt, 
but before I could get to her I sprained my ankle. 
And here I am; I can not go to her, and, of course, 
she will not come to me. You cannot imagine how 
I chafe under this harassing restraint.” 

“ I can imagine it very easily,” said Junius. 

“ The only thing I have to hope for,” said Lav/- 
rence, “ is that to-morrow may be a fine day, and that 
the lady may come outside and give me the chance 
of speaking to her at this open door.” 

Junius smiled grimly. “It appears to me,” he 
said, “ as if it were likely to rain for several days. 


The Late Mrs Null. 


281 


But now I must go into the house and see the 
family. I hope you believe me, sir, when I say I am 
sorry to find you in your present predicament.” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence, smiling, although he did 
not feel at all gay, “ for, otherwise, I might have been 
finally rejected and far away.” 

“If you had been rejected,” said Junius, “I 
should have been very glad, indeed, to have you stay 
with us.” 

“ Thank you,” said Lawrence. 

“I will look in upon you again,” said Junius, as 
he left the room. 

Lawrence’s mind, which had been in a very un¬ 
pleasant state of troubled restiveness for some days, 
was now thrown into a sad turmoil by this arrival of 
Junius Keswick. As he saw that tall and good- 
looking young man going up the steps of the house 
porch, with his valise in his hand, he clinched both 
his fists as they rested on the arm of his chair, and 
objurgated the anti-detective. 

“ If it had not been for that rascal,” he said to him¬ 
self, “ I should not have written to Keswick, and he 
would not have thought of coming back at this 
untimely moment. The only advantage I had was a 
clear coast, and now that is gone. Of course Keswick 
was frightened when he found I was staying in the 
same house with Roberta March, and hurried back 
to attend to his own interests. The first thing he 
will do now will be to propose to her himself; and, 
as they have been engaged once, it is as like as not 
she will take him again. If I could use this foot, I 


282 


The Late Mrs Null. 


would go into the house, this minute, and have the 
first word with her.” At this he rose to his feet 
and made a step with his sprained ankle, but the 
sudden pain occasioned by this action caused him to 
sit down again with a groan. Lawrence Croft was 
not a man to do himself a physical injury which 
might be permanent, if such doing could possibly be 
avoided, and he gave up the idea of trying to go 
into the house. 

“ I tell you what it is, Letty,” said Uncle Isham, 
when he returned to the kitchen after having carried 
Lawrence’s supper to him, dat ar Mister Croft in 
de offis is a gittin wuss an’ wuss in he min’, ebery 
day. I neber seed a man more pow’ful glowerin’ 
dan he is dis ebenin.” 

“ I reckin’ he j’ints is healin’ up,” said Letty. 
“ Dey tells me dat de healin’ pains mos’ gen’rally 
runs into de min’.” 

About nine o’clock in the evening Junius Keswick 
paid Lawrence a visit; and, taking a seat by one 
side of the fireplace, accepted the offer of a cigar. 

‘‘ How are things going on in the house?” asked 
Lawrence. 

“Well,” said Keswick, speaking slowly, “ as you 
know so much of our family affairs, I might as well 
tell you that they are in a somewhat upset condi¬ 
tion. When I went in, I saw, at first, no one but my 
cousin, and she seemed so extraordinarily glad to see 
me that I thought something must be wrong, some¬ 
where ; and when my aunt returned—she was not at 
home when I arrived—she was thrown into such a 


The Late Mrs Null. 


283 


state of mind on seeing me, that I didn’t know 
whether she was going to order me out of the house 
or go herself. But she restrained herself, wonder*- 
fully, considering her provocation, for, of course, I 
have entirely disordered her plans by appearing 
here, when she had arranged everything for you to 
have Miss March to yourself. But, so far, the peace 
has been kept between us, although she scarcely 
speaks to me.” 

“ And Miss March ? ” said Lawrence. You have 
seen her? ” 

“ Yes,” said Junius, I saw her at supper, and for 
a short time afterwards, but she soon retired to her 
room.” 

“Do you think she was disturbed by your re¬ 
turn?” asked Lawrence. 

“I won’t say that,” said Junius, “but she was 
certainly not herself. Mrs Null tells me that she ex¬ 
pects to go home to-morrow morning, having written 
to her uncle to send for her.” 

“ That is bad, bad, very bad,” said Lawrence. 

After that there was a pause in the conversation, 
during which Mr Croft, with brows very much knit, 
gazed steadfastly into the fire. “ Mr Keswick,” he 
said presently, “ what you tell me fills me with con¬ 
sternation. It is quite plain that I shall have no 
chance to see Miss March, and, as there is no one 
else in the world who will do it for me, I am going 
to ask you to go to her, to-morrow morning, and 
speak to her in my behalf.” 

When this had been said, Junius Keswick dropped 


284 


The Late Mrs Null, 


his cigar upon the floor, and sat up very straight in 
his chair, gazing fixedly at Lawrence. “ Upon my 
word 1" he said, “ I knew you were a cool man, but 
that request freezes my imagination. I cannot 
conceive how any man can ask another to try to 
win for him a lady whom he knows the other man 
desires to win for himself. You have made some 
requests before that were rather astounding, but 
this one overshadows them all.” 

“ I admit,” said Lawrence, “ that what I ask is 
somewhat out of the way, but you must consider 
the circumstances. Suppose I had met you in mor¬ 
tal combat, and I had dropped my sword where you 
could reach it and I could not ; would you pick it 
up and give it to me ? or would you run me 
through ? ” 

“ I don’t think that comparison is altogether a 
good one,” said Junius. 

“ Yes, it is,” said Lawrence, “and covers the case 
entirely. I am here, disabled, and if you pick up 
my sword, as I have just asked you to do, it is not 
to be assumed that your action gives me the victory. 
It merely gives me an equal chance with yourself.” 

“ Do you mean,” said Junius, “ that you want me 
to go to Miss March, and deliberately ask her if she 
will marry you ? ” 

“ No,” said Lawrence, “ I have done that myself. 
But there are certain points in regard to which 
I want to be set right with Miss March. And now 
I wish you to understand me, Mr Keswick. I 
speak to you, not only as a generous and honorable 


The Late Mrs Null, 


285 


man, which I have found you to be, but as a rival. 
I cannot believe that you would be willing to profit 
by my present disadvantages, and, as I have said 
two or three times before, it would certainly be for 
your interest, as a suitor for the lady, to have this 
matter settled.” 

“Wouldn’t it be better, then,” said Junius, “ if I 
were to go immediately, and speak to her for my¬ 
self?” 

“ No,” said Lawrence, “ I don’t think that would 
settle the affair at all. From what I understand of 
your relations with Miss March, she knows you are 
her lover, and yet she neither accepts nor declines 
you. If you were to go to her no\\^ it is not likely 
she would give you any definite answer. But in re¬ 
gard to me, it would be different. She would say 
yes or no. And if she made the latter answer I 
think you could walk over the course. I am not 
vain enough to say that I have been an obstacle to 
your success, but I assure you that I have tried very 
hard to make myself such an obstacle.” 

“ It seems to me,” said Junius, imitating his com¬ 
panion in the matter of knitting his brows and gaz¬ 
ing into the fire, “ that this affair could be managed 
very simply. Miss March is not going at the break 
of day. Why don’t you contrive to see her before 
she starts, and say for yourself what you have to 
say r 

“ Nothing would please me better than that,” said 
Croft, “ but I don’t believe she would give me any 
chance to speak with her. Since my accident, she 


286 


The Late Mrs Null, 


has persistently and pointedly refused to grant me 
even the shortest interview.” 

“ That ought to prove to you,” said Keswick, 
“that she does not desire your attentions. You 
should consider it as a positive answer.” 

“ Not at all,” said Lawrence, “ not at all. And 
I don’t think you would consider it a positive an¬ 
swer if you were in my place. I think she has taken 
some offence which is entirely groundless, and if you 
will consent to act for me it will enable me to set 
straight this misunderstanding.” 

“ Confound it! ” exclaimed Keswick. “ Can’t you 
write to her? or get some one else to take your love 
messages ? ” 

“ No,” said Lawrence, “ I cannot write to her, for 
I am not sure that under the circumstances she 
would answer my letter. And I have already asked 
Mrs Null, the only other person I could ask, to 
speak for me, but she has declined.” 

“ By the Lord Llarry! ” exclaimed Junius, “you 
are the rarest wooer I ever heard of.” 

“ I assure you,” said Lawrence, his face flushing 
somewhat, “ that it is not my desire to carry on 
my wooing in this fashion. My whole soul is op¬ 
posed to it, but circumstances will have -it so. And 
' as I don’t intend, if I can help it, to have my life 
determined by circumstances, I must go ahead in 
despite of them, although I admit that it makes the 
road very rough.” 

^ “I should think it would,” said Junius. And 
then there was a pause in the conversation. 



The Late Mrs Null, 


287 

“ Well, Mr Keswick,” said Lawrence, presently, 
“will you do this thing for me?” 

“Am I to understand,” said Junius, “that if I 
don’t do it, it won’t be done ?” 

“ Yes,” said Lawrence, “ you are positively my last 
chance. I have racked my brains to think of some 
other way of presenting my case to Miss March, but 
there is no other way. I might stand at my door, 
and call to her as she entered the carriage, but that 
would be the height of absurdity. I might hop on 
one foot into the house, but, even if I wished to pre¬ 
sent myself in that way, I don’t believe I could get 
up that long flight of steps. It would be worse than 
useless to write, for T should not know what was 
thought of my letter, or even if it had been read. Mrs 
Keswick cannot carry my message; Mrs Null v/ill 
not ; and I have only you to call upon. I know it 
is a great deal to ask, but it means so much to me—• 
to both of us, in fact—that I ask it.” 

“ You were kind enough to say a little while ago,” 
said Junius, “ that you considered me an honorable 
man. I try to be such, and, therefore, will frankly 
state to you that I can think of but three motives, 
satisfactory to myself, for undertaking this business 
for you, and not one of them is a generous one. In 
the first place, I might care to do it in order to have 
this matter settled, for you are such an extraordinary 
suitor, that I don’t know in what form you may 
turn up, the next time. Secondly, from what you 
tell 'me of Miss March’s repugnance to meet you, 
I don’t believe my mission will have an issue favor- 


288 


The Late Mrs Null. 


able to you, and the more unfavorable it is, the 
better I shall like it. My third reason for acting for 
you is, that the whole affair is such an original one 
that it will rather interest me to be engaged in it. 
This last reason would not hold, however, if I had 
the least expectation of being successful.” 

‘‘You consent then?” said Lawrence, quickly, 
turning towards the other. “You’ll go to Miss 
March for me ?” 

“Yes, I think I will,” said'Junius, “ if you will 
accept the services of a man who is decidedly op¬ 
posed to your interests.” 

“ Of course I never expected you to favor them,” 
said Lawrence, “ nor is it necessary that you should. 
All I ask is, that you carry a message to Miss March, 
and if she needs any explanation of it, that you will 
explain in the way that I shall indicate ; that you 
shall tell me how she received my message; and that 
you shall bring me back her answer. There is no 
need of your making any proposition to her ; that 
has already been done ; what I want is, that she 
should not go away from here with a misunderstand¬ 
ing between us, and that she shall give me at least 
the promise of a hearing.” 

“Very good,” said Junius, “now, what is it that 
you want me to say?” 

This was not an easy question for Lawrence to 
answer. He knew very well what he wanted to say, 
if he had a chance of saying it himself. He 
wanted to pour his whole heart out to Roberta 
March, and, showing her its present passion, to ask 


The Late Mrs Null. 


289 


her to forgive those days in which his mind only 
had appeared to be engaged. He believed he could 
say things that would force from her the pardon of 
his previous short-comings, if she considered them 
as such. She had been very gracious to him in time 
past, and he did not see why she should not be still 
more gracious now, if he could remove the feelings 
of resentment, which he believed were occasioned 
by her womanly insight into the motives of his 
conduct toward her, during those delightful summer 
days at Midbranch. 

But to get another person to say all this was a 
very different thing. He was sure, however, that if 
it were not said now, it would never be said. It 
would be death to all his hopes if Miss March 
went away, feeling towards him as she now felt; 
therefore he stiffened his purpose which was quite 
used to being stiffened ; hardened his sensibilities; 
and took his plunge. Gazing steadfastly at the back 
of the fireplace while he spoke, he endeavored to 
make Junius Keswick understand the nature, and 
the probable force of the objections to his line of 
action as a suitor, which had grown up in the mind 
of Miss March ; and he also endeavored to show how 
completely and absolutely he had been changed by 
the vigor and ardor of his present affection; and 
how he was entitled to be considered by Miss March 
as a lov6r who had but one thought and purpose, 
and that was to win her ; and, as such, he asked her 
to give him an opportunity to renew his proposal to 
her. “ Now, then,” said Lawrence, “ I have placed 
19 


290 


The Late Mrs Null, 


the case before you, and I beg you will present it, 
as nearly as possible, in the form in which I have 
given it to you.” 

“Mr Croft,7 said Junius, “this case of yours is 
worse than I thought it was. What woman of spirit 
would accept a man who admitted, that during the 
whole of his acquaintance with her he had had his 
doubts in regard to suitability, etc., but who, when 
a crisis arrived, and another man turned up, had 
determined to overlook all his objections and take 
her, anyway.” 

“ That is a very cold-blooded way of putting it,” 
said Lawrence, “ and I don’t believe at all that she 
will look upon it in that light. If you will set the 
matter before her as I have put it to you, I believe 
she will see it as I wish her to see it.” 

“Very well,” said Junius, rising, and taking out 
his watch, “ I will make your statement as accurately 
as I can, and without any interpretations of my own. 
And now I must-bid you good-night. I had no idea 
it was after twelve o’clock.” 

“And you will observe her moods?” asked Law¬ 
rence. 

“Yes,” said Junius as he opened the door, “I will 
carefully observe her moods.” 

When Junius had gone, Lawrence turned his face 
again toward the fireplace, where the last smoulder¬ 
ing stick had just broken apart in the middle, and 
the two ends had wearily fallen over the andirons as 
if they wished it understood that they could do no 
more burning that night. Taking this as a hint. 


The Late Mrs Ntill. 


291 


Lawrence prepared to retire. “Old I sham must 
have gone to bed long ago/’ he said, “ but as I have 
asked for so much assistance to-day, I think it is 
well that I should try to do some things for myself.” 

It was, indeed, very late, but behind the partially 
closed shutters of a lower room of the house sat old 
Mrs Keswick, gazing at the light that was stream¬ 
ing from the window of the office, and wondering 
what those two men were saying to each other that 
was keeping them sitting up together until after 
midnight. 

Annie Peyton, too, had not gone to bed, and 
looking through her chamber window at the office, 
she hoped that cousin Junius would come away be¬ 
fore he lost his temper. Of course she thought he 
must have been very angry when he came home and 
found Mr Croft here at the only time that Roberta 
March had ever visited the house, and it was quite 
natural that he should go to his rival, and tell him 
what he thought about it. But he had been there 
a long, long time, and she did hope they would not 
get very angry with each other, and that nothing 
would happen. One thought comforted her very 
much. Mr Croft was disabled, and Junius would 
scorn to take advantage of a man in that condition. 

At an upper window, at the other end of the 
house, sat Roberta March, ready for bed, but with 
no intention of going there until Junius Keswick 
had come out of the office. Knowing the two men 
as she did, she had no fear that any harm would 
come to either of them during this long conference, 


292 


The Late Mrs Null, 


whatever its subject might be. That she, herself, 
was that subject she had not the slightest doubt, and 
although it was of no earthly use for her to sit there 
and gaze upon that light streaming into the dark¬ 
ness of the yard, but revealing to her no more of 
what was going on inside the room than if it had 
been the light of a distant star, still she sat and 
speculated. At last the office door opened, and 
Junius came out, turning to speak to the occupant 
of the room as he did so. The brief vision of him 
which the watchers caught, as he stood for a mo¬ 
ment in the lighted doorway before stepping out into 
the darkness, showed that his demeanor was as quiet 
and composed as usual; and one of the three women 
went to bed very much relieved. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


From breakfast time the next morning until ten 
o’clock in the forenoon, at which hour the Mid¬ 
branch carriage arrived, Junius Keswick had been 
vainly endeavoring to get an opportunity to speak 
with Miss March. That lady had remained in her 
own room nearly all the morning, where his cousin 
had been with her; and his aunt, who had her own 
peculiar ways of speeding the parting guest, had re¬ 
tired to some distant spot on the estate, either to 
plan out some farming operation for the ensuing 
season, or to prevent her pent-up passion from boil¬ 
ing over in her own house. 

Thus Junius had the lower floor to himself, and he 
strode about in much disquietude, debating whether 
he ought to send a message to Roberta, or whether 
he should wait till she had finished her packing, or 
whatever it was, that was keeping her upstairs. His 
last private interview with her had not been a pleas¬ 
ant one, and if he had intended to speak to her for 
himself, he would not have felt much encouraged by 
her manner of the preceding evening; but he was 
now engaged on the affairs of another, and he be¬ 
lieved that a failure to attend to them would be re¬ 
garded as a breach of faith. 

When Mr Brandon’s carriage drove into the yard 


294 


The Late Mrs Null, 


he began to despair, but now Roberta came running 
downstairs to speak to Sam, the driver, and ask him 
how long it would be necessary to rest his horses. 
Sam thought an hour would be long enough, as they 
would have a good rest when they got home; and 
this matter having been settled, Junius came for¬ 
ward, and requested Roberta to step in the parlor, 
as he had something to say to her. Without reply, 
she followed him into the room, and he closed the 
door. They sat down, one on one side of the round 
centre table, and one on the other, and Junius began 
his statement. 

He was by profession a lawyer, and he had given 
a great deal of attention to the art of putting 
things plainly, and with a view to a just effect. He 
had carefully prepared in his mind what he should 
say to Roberta. He wished to present this man’s 
message without the slightest exhibition of desire 
for its success, and yet without any tendency to that 
cold-blooded way of stating it, to which Croft had 
objected. He had, indeed, picked up his adversary’s 
sword, and while he did not wish, in handing it to 
him, to prick him with it, or do him some such un¬ 
derhand injury, he did not think it at all necessary 
to sharpen the weapon before giving it back. 

What Junius had to say occupied a good deal of 
time. He expressed himself carefully and deliber¬ 
ately ; and as nearly as a skilfully stuffed and pre¬ 
pared animal in a museum resembles its wild original 
of the forest, so did his remarks resemble those that 
Lawrence would have made had he been there. 


The Late Mrs Ntdl. 


295 


Roberta listened to him in silence until he had 
finished, and then she rose to her feet, and her man¬ 
ner was such that Junius rose also. “Junius Kes¬ 
wick,” she said, “ you have deliberately come to me, 
and offered me the hand of another man in mar¬ 
riage.” 

“ Not that,” said Junius, “ I merely came to ex¬ 
plain-” 

“ Do not split hairs,” she interrupted, “ you did 
exactly that. You came to me because he could 
not come himself, and offered him to me. Now go 
to him from me, and tell him that I accept him.” 
And, with that, she swept out of the room, and 
came down stairs no more until bonneted, and ac¬ 
companied by Miss Annie, she hurried to the front 
door, and entered the carriage which was there 
waiting for her, with Peggy by the driver. With 
some quick good-byes and kisses to Annie, but 
never a word to Junius, or anybody else, she drove 
away. 

If Junius Keswick had been nervous and anxious 
that morning, as he strode about the house, waiting 
for an opportunity to speak to Miss March, it may 
well be supposed that Lawrence Croft, shut up in 
his little room at the end of the yard, would be 
more so. He had sat at his window, waiting, and 
waiting. He had occasionally seen Mr Keswick 
come out on the porch, and with long strides pace 
backward and forward, and he knew by that sign 
that he had yet no message to bring him. He had 
seen the Midbranch carriage drive into the yard ; 


2g6 


The Late Mrs Null. 


he had seen Miss March come out on the porch, 
and speak to the driver, and then go in again; he 
had seen the carriage driven under a large tree, 
where the horses were taken out and led away to be 
refreshed ; in an hour or more, he saw them brought 
back and harnessed to the vehicle, which was turned 
and driven up again to the door, when some baggage 
was brought down and strapped on a little platform 
behind. Shortly afterwards Peggy came round the 
end of the house, with a hat on, and a little bundle 
under her arm, and approached the carriage, mak¬ 
ing, however, a wide turn toward the office, at 
which, and a mile or two beyond, her far-off gaze 
was steadily directed. 

Lawrence threw up the sash and called to her, and 
his guardian imp approached the window. “ Are 
you Miss March’s maid ? I think I have seen you 
at Midbranch.” 

‘‘Yaas, sah, you’s done seen me, offen,” said 

Peggy- 

“ Poes Miss March intend to start immediately?” 
he asked. 

Yaas, sah,” said the good Peggy, “ she’ll be out 
in a minute, soon as she done kissin’ Mah’s Junius 
good-bye in de parlor.” And then, noticing a look 
of astonishment on the gentleman’s face, she added: 
“ Dey’s gwine to be mar’ed, Chris’mus.” 

What! ” exclaimed Lawrence. 

“ Good-bye, Mister Crof,’ ” said Peggy, “ I’s got to 
hurry up.” 

Lawrence made no answer, but mechanically tossed 


The Late Mrs Null, 297 

her a coin, which, picking up, she gave him a fare¬ 
well grin, and hastened to take her seat by the 
driver. 

Very soon afterward Lawrence saw Roberta come 
out, accompanied only by Mrs Null, and hurry down 
the steps. Forgetting his injured ankle, he sprang 
to his feet, and stepping quickly to the door, opened 
it, and stood on the threshold. But Miss March did 
not even look his way. He gazed at her with wide- 
open eyes as she hastily kissed Mrs Null, and sprang 
into the carriage, which was immediately driven off. 
As Mrs Null turned to go into the house, she looked 
toward the office and nodded to* him. He believed 
that she would have come to him if he had called 
her, but he did not call. FIis mind was in such a 
condition that he would not have been capable of 
framing a question, had she come. He felt that he 
could speak to no one until he had seen Keswick. 
Closing the door he went back to his chair; and as 
he did so, his ankle pained him sadly, but of this 
he scarcely thought. 

He did not have to wait long for Junius Keswick, 
for in about ten minutes that individual entered. 
Lawrence turned, as his visitor opened the door; 
and he saw a countenance which had undergone 
a very noticeable change. It was not dark or low¬ 
ering ; it was not pale; but it was gray and hard; 
and the eyes looked larger than Lawrence had re¬ 
membered them. 

Without preface or greeting Junius approached 
him, and said: I have taken your message to Miss 


The Late Mrs NulL 


March, and have brought you one in return. You 
are accepted.” 

Lawrence pushed back his chair, and stared 
blankly at the other. “ What do you mean ? ” he 
presently asked. 

“ I mean what I say,” said Keswick. “ Miss 
March has accepted you.” 

A crowd of emotions rushed through the brain of 
Lawrence Croft; joy was among them, bu t it was a 
joy that was jostleti and shaken and pushed, tl^ 
way and thaf. T do"not uhdiHtantI,'^’'Tie*'sa^ “ I 
did notLxp^t such a decisive message. I supposed 
she might send me^ some encouragement, some—. 
Why didn’t she see me before sjiie left?” 

“ I am not here to explain her actions if I could,” 
said Junius, who had npt sat down. She said: 

‘ Tell him I accept him.’ That is all. Good morm 
ing.” 

“ But, stop ! ” cried Lawrence, on his feet again. 
“You must tell me more than that. Did you say 
to her only what I said to you ? How did it affect 
her ? ” 

“ Oh,” said Junius, turning suddenly at the door, 
“ I forgot that you asked me to observe her mood. 
Well, she was very angry.” 

“With me?” cried Lawrence. 

“With me,” said Junius. And closing the door 
behind him, he strode away. 

The accepted lover sat down. He had never 
spoken more truly than when he said he did not 
understand it. “ Is she really mine ? ” he exclaimed. 





The Late Mrs Null. 


299 


And with his eyes fixed on the blank wall over the 
mantel-piece, he repeated over and over again : “ Is 
she mine? Is she really mine?” He had well de¬ 
veloped mental powers, but the work of setting this 
matter straight and plain was too difficult for him. 

If she had sent him some such message as this: 

I am very angry with you, but some day you can 
come and explain yourself to me ; ” his heart would 
have leaped for joy. He would have believed that 
his peace had been made, and that he had only to 
go to her to call her his own. Now his heart de¬ 
sired to leap with joy, but it did not seem to know 
how to do it. The situation was such an anomalous 
one. After such a message as this, why had she not 
let him see her ? Why had she been angry with 
Keswick ? Was that pique ? And then a dark 
thought crossed his mind. Had he been accepted 
to punish the other ? No, he could not believe that; 
no woman such as Roberta March would give her¬ 
self away from such a motive. Had Keswick been 
joking with him ? No, he could not believe that; 
no man could joke with such a face. 

Even the fact that Mrs Keswick had not bid Miss 
March farewell, troubled the mind of Lawrence. It 
was true that she might not yet know that the match, 
which she had so much encouraged, had been finally 
made, but something must be very wrong, or she 
would not have been absent at the moment of her 
guest's departure. And what did that beastly little 
negro mean by telling him that Keswick and Miss 
March were to be married at Christmas, and that 


300 


The Late Mrs Null, 


the two were kissing each other good-bye .in the 
parlor ? Why, the man had not even come out to 
put her in the carriage, and the omission of this 
courtesy was very remarkable. These questions 
were entirely too difficult for him to resolve by him¬ 
self. It was absolutely necessary that more should 
be told to him, and explained to him. Seeing the 
negro boy Plez crossing the yard, he called him and 
asked him to tell Mr Keswick that Mr Croft wished 
to see him immediately. 

“Malls’ Junius,” said the boy, “ he done gone to 
de railroad to take de kyars. He done took he knap¬ 
sack on he back, an’ walk ’cross de fiel’s.” 

When, about an hour or two afterwards. Uncle 
Isham brought Mr Croft his dinner, the old negro 
appeared to have lost that air of attentive geniality 
which he usually put on while waiting on the gen¬ 
tleman. Lawrence, however, took no notice of this, 
but before the man reached the table, on which he 
was to place the tray he carried, he asked : “ Is it 

true that Mr Keswick has gone away by train ? ” 

“ Yaas, sail,” answered Isham. 

“And where is Mrs Keswick?” asked Lawrence. 
“ Isn’t she in the house? ” 

“No, sah, done gwine vis’tin, I ’spec.” 

“ When will she return ? ” 

“ Dunno,” said Isham. “ She nebber comes to me 
an’ tells me whar she gwine, an’ when she cornin’ 
back.” 

And then, after satisfying himself that nothing 
more was needed of him for the present, Isham left 


The Late Mrs Null, 


30 r 

the room ; and when he reached the kitchen, he ad¬ 
dressed himself to its plump mistress: “ Letty,” 

said he, “when dat ar Mister Crof has got froo wid 
his dinner, you go an’ fotch back de plates an’ 
dishes. He axes too many questions to suit me, dis 
day.” 

“You is poh’ly to-day. Uncle Isham,” said Letty. 

“ Yaas,” said the old man, “ I’s right much on the 
careen.” 

Uncle Isham, perhaps, was not more loyal to the 
widow Keswick than many old servants were and 
are to their former mistresses, but his loyalty was 
peculiar in that it related principally to his regard 
for her character. This regard he wished to be very 
high, and it always troubled and unsettled his mind, 
when the old lady herself or anybody else interfered 
with his efforts to keep it high. For years he had been 
hoping that the time would come when she would 
cease to “ rar and chawge,” but she had continued, at 
intervals, to indulge in that most unsuitable exercise; 
and now that it appeared that she had reared and 
charged again, her old servant was much depressed. 
She had gone away from the house, and, for all he 
knew, she might stay away for days or weeks, as she 
had done before, and Uncle Isham was never so 
much “ on the careen ” as when he found himself 
forced to believe that his old mistress was still a 
woman who could do a thing like that. 

Letty had no objections to answering questions, 
but much to her disappointment, Lawrence asked 
her none. He had had enough of catechising ne- 


302 


The Late Mrs Null. 


groes. But he requested her to ask Mrs Null if she 
would be kind enough to step out, for a few minutes, 
and speak to him. When, very shortly thereafter, 
that lady appeared, Lawrence was seated at his open 
door ready to receive her. 

“ How are you ? ’’ she said. “ And how is your 
ankle to-day? You have had nobody to attend to 
it.” 

It has hurt me a good deal,” he answered. “ I 
think I must have given it a wrench this morning, 
but I put on it some of the lotion Mrs Keswick left 
with me, and it feels better.” 

“ It is too bad,” said Mrs Null, that you have to 
attend to it yourself.” 

Not at all,” said Lawrence. “ Now that I know 
how, I can do it, perfectly well, and I don’t care a 
snap about my ankle, except that it interferes with 
more important affairs. Why do you suppose Miss 
March went away without speaking to me, or taking 
leave of me in any way ? ” 

“ I thought that would trouble you,” said she, 
“ and, to speak honestly, I don’t think it was right. 
But Roberta was in a very agitated condition, when 
she left here, and I don’t believe she ever thought of 
taking leave of you, or any one, except me. She 
and I are very good friends, but she don’t confide 
much in me. But one thing I am pretty sure of, 
and that is that she is dreadfully angry with my 
cousin Junius, and I am very sorry for that.” 

“ How did he anger her ? ” asked Lawrence, wish¬ 
ing to find out how much this young woman knew. 


The Late Mrs Null, 


303 


“ I haven’t the least idea,” said Miss Annie. “ Ail 
T know is, she had quite a long talk with him, in the 
parlor, and after that she came flying upstairs, just 
as indignant as she could be. She didn’t say much, 
but I could see how her soul raged within her.” 
And now the young lady stopped speaking, and 
looked straight into Lawrence’s face. “ It isn’t pos¬ 
sible,” she said, “ that you have been sending my 
cousin to propose to her for you ? ” 

This was not a pleasant question to answer, and, 
besides, Lawrence had made up his mind that the 
period had passed for making confidants of other 
persons, in regard to his love affairs. “ Do you sup¬ 
pose I would do that ? ” he said. 

“ No, I don’t,” Miss Annie answered. “ Cousin 
Junius would never have undertaken such a thing, 
and I don’t believe you would be cruel enough to 
ask him.” 

Thank you for your good opinion,” said Law¬ 
rence. “ And now can you tell me when Mr Kes¬ 
wick is expected to return ? ” 

He has gone back to Washington, and he told 
me he should stay there some time.” 

“ And why has not Mrs Keswick been out to see 
me ? ” asked Lawrence. 

“You are dreadfully inquisitive,” said Miss Annie, 
“ but to tell you the simple truth, Mr Croft, I don’t 
believe Aunt Keswick takes any further interest in 
you, now that Roberta has gone. She had set her 
heart on making a match between you two, and do¬ 
ing it here without delay ; and I think that every- 


304 


The Late Mrs Null. 


thing going wrong about this has put her into the 
state of mind she is in now.” 

“ Has she really gone away ? ” asked Lawrence. 

“ Oh, that don’t amount to anything,” said Miss 
Annie. “ She went over the fields to Rowlett’s, to 
see the postmistress, who is an old friend, to whom 
she often goes for comfort, when things are not right 
at home. But I am going after her this afternoon 
in the spring wagon. I’ll take Plez along with me 
to open the gates. I am sure I shall bring her 
back.” 

I must admit, Mrs Null,” said Lawrence, ‘‘ that 
I am very inquisitive, but you can easily understand 
how much I am troubled and perplexed.” 

“ I expect Miss March’s going away troubled you 
more than anything else,” said she. 

“That is true,” he answered, “but then there are 
other things which give me a great deal of anxiety. 
I came here to be, for a day or two, the guest of 
a lady on whom I have no manner of claim for pro¬ 
longed hospitality. And now here I am, compelled 
to stay in this room and depend on her kindness 
or forbearance for everything I have. I would go 
away, immediately, but I know it would injure me to 
travel. The few steps I took yesterday have prob¬ 
ably set me back for several days.” 

“ Oh, it would never do for you to travel,” said she, 
“ with such a sprained ankle as you have. It would 
certainly injure you very much to be driven all the 
way to the Green Sulphur Springs. I am told the 
road is very rough, between here and there, but 


The Late Mrs Null, 


305 


perhaps you didn’t notice it, having come over on 
horseback.” 

“ Yes, I did notice it, and I could not stand that 
drive. And, even if I could be got to the train, to 
go North, I should have to walk a good deal at the 
stations.” 

“You simply must not think of it,” said Miss 
Annie. “ And now let me give you a piece of ad¬ 
vice. I am a practical person, as you may know, 
and I like to do things in a practical way. The very 
best thing that you can do, is to arrange with Aunt 
Keswick to stay here as a boarder, until your ankle 
is well. She has taken boarders, and in this case I 
don’t think she would refuse. As I told you before, 
you must not expect her to take the same interest 
in you, that she did when you first came, but she is 
really a kind woman, though she has such dread¬ 
fully funny ways, and she wouldn’t have neglected 
you to-day, if it hadn’t been that her mind is en¬ 
tirely wrapped up in other things. If you like. 
I’ll propose such an arrangement to her, this after¬ 
noon.” 

“ You are very kind, indeed,” said Lawrence, “ but 
is there not danger of offending her by such a propo¬ 
sition ? ” 

“ Yes, I think there is,” answered Miss Annie, “ and 
I have no doubt she will fly out into a passion when 
she hears that the gentleman, whom she invited here 
as a guest, proposes to stay as a boarder, but I think 
I can pacify her, and make her look at the matter in 
the proper way.” 


20 


3 o 6 


The Late Mrs Null. 


But why mention it at all, and put yourself to 
all that trouble about it ? ” said Lawrence. 

“ Why, of course, because I think you will be so 
much better satisfied, and content to keep quiet and 
get well, if you feci that you have a right to stay 
here. If Aunt Keswick wasn’t so very different 
from other people, I wouldn’t have mentioned this 
matter for, really, there is no necessity for it; but I 
know very well that if you were to drop out of her 
mind for two or three days, and shouldn’t see any¬ 
thing of her, that you would become dreadfully ner¬ 
vous about staying here.” 

“You are certainly very practical, Mrs Null, and 
very sensible, and very, very kind ; and nothing could 
suit me better under the circumstances than the 
plan you propose. But I am extremely anxious not 
to give offence to your aunt. She has treated me 
with the utmost kindness and hospitality.” 

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself about that,” said Miss 
Annie, with a little laugh. “ I am getting to know her 
so well that I think I can manage an affair like this, 
very easily. And now I must be off, or it will be 
too late for me to go to Howlett’s, this afternoon, 
and I am a very slow driver. Are you sure there is 
nothing you want ? I shall go directly past the 
store, and can stop as well as not.” 

“ Thank you very much,” said Lawrence, “ but I 
do not believe that Howlett’s possesses an article 
that I need. One thing I will ask you to do for me 
before you go. I want to write a letter, and I find 
that I am out of paper ; therefore I shall be very 


The Late Mrs Null. 


307 


much obliged to you, if you will let me have some, 
and some envelopes.” 

“ Why, certainly,” said Miss Annie, and she went 
into the house. 

She looked over the stock of paper which her 
aunt kept in a desk in the dining-room, but she did 
not like it. “ I don’t believe he will want to write 
on such ordinary paper as this,” she said to herself. 
Whereupon she went upstairs and got some of her 
own paper and envelopes, which were much finer in 
material and more correct in style. “ I don’t like it 
a bit,” she thought, “ to give this to him to write 
that letter on, but I suppose it’s bound to be written, 
anyway, so he might as well have the satisfaction 
of good paper.” 

“You must excuse these little sheets,” she said, 
when she took it to him, “ but you couldn’t expect 
anything else, in an Amazonian household like ours. 
Cousin Junius has manly stationery, of course, but I 
suppose it is all locked up in that secretary in your 
room.” 

“ Oh, this will do very well indeed,” said Law¬ 
rence ; “ and I wish I could come out and help you 
into your vehicle,” regarding the spring wagon which 
now stood at the door, with Plez at the head of the 
solemn sorrel. 

“ Thank you,” said Miss Annie, “ that is not at all 
necessary.” And she tripped over to the spring 
wagon, and mounting into its altitudes without the 
least trouble in the world, she took up the reins. 
With these firmly grasped in her little hands, which 


3o8 


The Late Mrs Null. 


were stretched very far out, and held very wide apart, 
she gave the horse a great jerk and told him to “ Get 
up!As she moved off, Lawrence from his open 
door called out: “ Bon voyage^' and in a full, clear 
voice she thanked him, but did not dare to look 
around, so intent was she upon her charioteering. 

Slowly turning the horse toward the yard gate, 
which Plez stood holding open, her whole soul was 
absorbed in the act of guiding the equipage through 
the gateway. Quickly glancing from side to side, 
and then at the horse’s back, which ought to occupy 
a medium position between the two gateposts, she 
safely steered the front wheels through the danger¬ 
ous pass, although a grin of delight covered the face 
of Plez as he noticed that the hub of one of the hind 
wheels almost grazed a post. Then the observant 
boy ran on to open the other gate, and with many 
jerks and clucks. Miss Annie induced the sorrel to 
break into a gentle trot. 

As Lawrence looked after her, a little pang made 
itself noticeable in his conscience. This girl was 
certainly very kind to him, and most remarkably 
considerate of him in the plan she had proposed. 
And yet he felt that he had- prevaricated to her, 
and, in fact, deceived her, in the answer he had made 
when she asked him if he had sent her cousin to 
speak for him to Miss March. Would she have such 
friendly feelings toward him, and be so willing to 
oblige him, if she knew that he had in effect done 
the thing which she considered so wrong and so 
cruel ? But it could not be helped; the time had 


The Late Mrs Null. 


309 


passed for confidences. He must now work out this 
affair for himself, without regard to persons who 
really had nothing whatever to do with it. 

Closing his door, he hopped back to his table, 
and, seating himself at it, he opened his travelling 
inkstand and prepared to write to Miss March. It 
was absolutely necessary that he should write this 
letter, immediately, for, after the message he had re¬ 
ceived from the lady of his love, no time should be 
lost in putting himself in communication with her. 
But, before beginning to write, he must decide upon 
the spirit of his letter. 

Under the very peculiar circumstances of his ac¬ 
ceptance, he did not feel that he ought to indulge in 
those rapturous expressions of ecstacy in which he 
most certainly would have indulged, if the lady had 
personally delivered her decision to him. He did 
not doubt her, for what woman would play a joke 
like that on a man—upon two men, in fact ? Even 
if there were no other reason she would not dare to 
do it. Nor did he doubt Keswick. It would have 
been impossible for him to come with such a mes¬ 
sage, if it had not been delivered to him. And yet 
Lawrence could not bring himself to be rapturous. 
If he had been accepted in cold blood, and a hand, 
and not a heart, had been given to him, he would 
gladly take that hand and trust to himself to so 
warm the heart that it, also, would soon be his. But 
he did not know what Roberta March had given him. 

On the other hand, he knew very well .if, in 
his first letter as an accepted lover, he should ex- 


310 


The Late Mrs NulL 


hibit any of that caution and prudence which, in the 
course of his courtship, had proved to be shoals on 
which he had very nearly run aground, that Rob¬ 
erta’s resentment, which had shown itself very 
marked in this regard, would probably be roused to 
such an extent that the affair would be brought to 
a very speedy and abrupt termination. If she had 
been obliged to forgive him, once, for this line of 
conduct, he could not expect her to do it again. 
To write a letter, which should err in neither of 
these respects, was a very difficult thing to do, and 
required so much preparatory thought, that when, 
toward the close of the afternoon. Miss Annie drove 
in at the yard gate, with Mrs Keswick on the seat 
beside her, not a line had been written. 

Mrs Keswick descended from the spring wagon 
and went into the house, but Miss Annie remained 
at the bottom of the steps, for the apparent purpose 
of speaking to Plez; perhaps to give him some in¬ 
structions in regard to the leading of a horse to its 
stable, or to instil into his mind some moral princi¬ 
ple or other; but the moment the vehicle moved 
away, she ran over to the office and tapped at the 
window, which was quickly opened by Lawrence. 

I have spoken to her about it,” she said, and 
although she blazed up at first, so that I thought I 
should be burned alive, I made her understand just 
how matters really are, and she has agreed to let 
you stay here as a boarder.” 

“ You are extremely good,” said Lawrence, “and 
must be a most admirable manager. This arrange- 


The Late Mrs Null. 


311 

ment makes me feel much better satisfied than I 
could have been, otherwise.” Then leaning a little 
further out of the window, he asked : “ But what 
am I to do for company, while I am shut up here ? ” 

“Oh, you will have Uncle Isham, and Aunt Kes¬ 
wick, and sometimes me. But I hope that you will 
soon be able to come into the house, and take your 
meals, and spend your evenings with us.” 

“You have nothing but good wishes for me,” he 
said, “ and I believe, if you could manage it, you 
would have me cured by magic, and sent off, well 
and whole, to-morrow.” 

“ Of course,” said Miss Annie, very promptly. 
“ Good night.” 

Just before supper, Mrs Keswick came in to see 
Lawrence. She was very grave, almost severe, and 
her conversation was confined to inquiries as to the 
state of his ankle, and his general comfort. But 
Lawrence took no offence at her manner, and was 
very gracious, saying some exceedingly neat things 
about the way he had been treated ; and, after a lit¬ 
tle, her manner slightly mollified, and she remarked : 
“ And so you let Miss March go away, without set¬ 
tling anything.” 

Now Lawrence considered this a very incorrect 
statement, but he had no wish to set the old lady 
right. He knew it would joy her heart, and make 
her more his friend than, ever if he should tell her 
that Miss March had accepted him, but this would 
be a very dangerous piece of information to put in 
her hands. He did not know what use she would 


The Late Mrs Null, 


312 

make of it, or what damage she might unwittingly 
do to his prospects. And so he merely answered : 
“ I had no idea she would leave so soon.” 

“ Well,” said the old lady, “ I suppose, after all, 
that you needn’t give it up yet. I understand that 
she is not going to New York before the end of the 
month, and you may be well enough before that to 
ride over to Midbranch.” 

“ I hope so, most assuredly,” said he. 

Lawrence devoted that evening to his letter. It 
was a long one, and was written with a most earnest 
desire to embrace all the merits of each of the two 
kinds of letters, which have before been alluded to, 
and to avoid all their faults. When it was finished, 
he read it, tore it up, and threw it in the fire. 


CHAPTER XXIIL 


The next day opened bright and clear, and before 
ten o’clock, the thermometer had risen to seventy 
degrees. Instead of sitting in front of the fireplace, 
Lawrence had his chair and table brought close to 
his open door-way, where he could look out on the 
same beautiful scene which had greeted his eyes a 
few days- before. But what is the good,” he 
thought, of this green grass, this sunny air, that 
blue sky, those white clouds, and the distant tinted 
foliage, without that figure, which a few days ago 
stood in the foreground of the picture?” But, as 
the woman to whom, in his soul’s sight, the whole 
world was but a background, was not there, he 
turned his eyes from the warm autumnal scene, and 
prepared again to write to her.. He had scarcely 
taken up his pen, however, when he was interrupted 
by the arrival of Miss Annie, who came to bring him 
a book she had just finished reading, a late English 
novel which she thought might be more interesting 
than those she had sent him. The book was one 
which Lawrence had not seen and wanted to see, but 
in talking about it, to the young lady, he discovered 
that she had not read all of it. 

“ Don’t let me deprive you of the book,” said Law- 


3 H 


The Late Mrs Null, 


rence. “ If you have begun it, you ought to go on 
with it.” 

“ Oh, don’t trouble your mind about that,” she 
said, with a laugh. “ I havQ finished it, but I have 
not read a word of the beginning. I only looked at 
the end of it, to see how the story turned out. I 
always do that, before I read a novel.” 

This remark much amused Lawrence. “ Do you 
know,” said he, “ that I would rather not read novels 
at all, than to read them in that way. I must begin 
at the beginning, and go regularly through, as the 
author wishes his readers to do.” 

“ And perhaps, when you get to the end,” said 
Miss Annie, “ you’ll find that the wrong man got her, 
and then you’ll wish you had not read the story.” 

As you appear to be satisfied with this novel,” 
said Lawrence, “ I wish you would read it to me, 
and then I would feel that I was not taking an un- 
courteous precedence of you.” 

“ I’ll read it to you,” said she, “ or, at least, as 
much as you want me to, for I feel quite sure that 
after you get interested in it, you will want to take 
it, yourself, and read straight on till it is finished, 
instead of waiting for some one to come and give 
you a chapter or two at a time. That would be the 
way with me, I know.” 

“ I shall be delighted to have you read to me,” said 
Lawrence. ’ ‘‘ When can you begin ? ” 

“ Now,” she said, “ if you choose. But perhaps 
you wish to write.” 

‘‘ Not at this moment,” said Lawrence, turning 


The Late Mrs NulL 


315 


from the table. “ Unfortunately I have plenty of 
leisure. Where will you sit ?” And he reached out 
his hand for a chair. 

“ Oh, I don’t want a chair,” said Annie, taking her 
seat on the broad door-step. This is exactly what 
I like. I am devoted to sitting on steps. Don’t 
you think there is something dreadfully stiff about 
always being perched up in a chair? ” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence, “ on some occasions.” 

And, forthwith, she began upon the first chapter 
and having read five lines of this, she went back and 
read the title page, suddenly remembering that Mr 
Croft liked to begin a book at the very beginning. 
Miss Annie had been accustomed to read to her 
father, and she read aloud very well, and liked it. 
As she sat there, shaded by a great locust tree, 
which had dropped so many yellow leaves upon the 
grass, that, now and then, it could not help letting a 
little fleck of sunshine come down upon her, some¬ 
times gilding for a moment her light-brown hair, 
sometimes touching the end of a crimson ribbon she 
wore, and again resting for a brief space on the toe 
of a very small boot just visible at the edge of her 
dress, Lawrence looked at her, and said to himself: 
“ Is it possible that this is the rather pale young 
girl in black, who gave me change from behind 
the desk of Mr Candy’s Information Shop ? I don’t 
believe it. That young person sprang up, tempo¬ 
rarily, and is defunct. This is some one else.” 

She read three chapters before she considered it 
time to go into the house to see if it was necessary 


3i6 


The Late Mrs NulL 


for her to do anything about dinner. When she left 
him, Lawrence turned again to his writing. 

That afternoon, he sent Mrs Null a little note on 
the back of a card, asking her if she could let him 
have a few more sheets of paper. Lawrence found 
this request necessary, as he had used up that day 
all the paper she had sent him, and the small torn 
pieces of it now littered the fireplace. 

‘‘ He must be writing a diary letter," said Miss 
Annie to herself when, she received this message, 
‘‘ such as we girls used to write when we were at 
school." And, bringing down a little the corners 
of her mouth, she took from her stationery box 
what she thought would be quite paper enough to 
send to a man for such a purpose. 

But, although the means were thus made abun¬ 
dant, the letter to Miss March was not then written. 
Lawrence finally determined that it was simply 
impossible for him to write to the lady, until he 
knew more. What Keswick had told him had 
been absurdly little, and he had hurried away 
before there had been time to ask further ques¬ 
tions. Instead of sending a letter to Miss March, 
he would write to Keswick, and would put to him 
a series of interrogations, the answers to which 
would make him understand better the position 
in which he stood. Then he would write to Miss 
March. 

The next day Miss Annie could not read to him 
in the morning, because, as she came and told him, 
she was going to Rowlett’s, on an errand for her 


The Late Mrs Null. 


3^7 

aunt. But there would be time to give him a 
chapter or two before dinner, when she came back. 

“Would it be any trouble,” said Lawrence, “for 
you to mail a letter for me?” 

“ Oh, no,” said Miss Annie, but not precisely in 
the same tone in which she would have told him 
that it would be no trouble to read to him two or 
three chapters of a novel. And yet she would 
pass directly by the residence of Miss Harriet 
Corvey, the post-mistress. 

As Miss Annie walked along the narrow path 
which ran by the roadside to Howlett's, with the 
blue sky above her, and the pleasant October sun¬ 
shine all about her, and followed at a little distance 
by the boy Plez, carrying a basket, she did not seem 
to be taking that enjoyment in her walk which was 
her wont. Her brows were slightly contracted and 
she looked straight in front of her, without seeing 
anything in particular, after the manner of persons 
whose attention is entirely occupied in looking 
into their own minds, at something they do not 
like. “ It is too much ! ” she said, almost loud, her 
brows contracting a little more as she spoke. “ It 
was bad enough to have to furnish the paper, but for 
me to have to carry the letter, is entirely too much ! ” 
And, at this, she involuntarily glanced at the thick 
and double stamped missive, which, having no 
pocket, she carried in her hand. She had not 
looked at it before, and as her eyes fell upon the 
address, she stopped so suddenly that Plez, who 
w'as dozing as he walked, nearly ran into her. 


The Late Mrs Null. 


318 

“What!’’she exclaimed, “‘Junius Keswick, five 
Q street, Washington, District of Columbia!’ Is 
it possible that Mr Croft has been writing to 
him, all this time?” She now walked on; and 
although she still seemed to notice not the ma¬ 
terial objects around her, the frown disappeared 
from her brow, and her mental vision seemed 
to be fixed upon something more pleasant than 
that which had occupied it before. As it will be 
remembered, she had refused positively to have any¬ 
thing to do with Lawrence’s suit to Miss March, 
and it was a relief to her to know that the letter 
she was carrying was not for that lady. “ But why,” 
thought she, “ should he be writing, for two whole 
evenings, to Junius. I expected that he would 
write to her, to find out why she went off and left 
him in that way, but I did not suppose he would 
want to write to Junius. It seems to me they had 
time enough, that night they were together, to talk 
over everything they had to say.” 

And then she began to wonder what they had to 
say, and, gradually, the conviction grew upon her 
that Mr Croft was a very, very honorable man. Of 
course it was wrong that he should have come here 
to try to win a lady who, if one looked at it in the 
proper light, really belonged to another. But it 
now came into her mind that Mr Croft must, by 
degrees, have seen this, for himself, and that it was 
the subject of his long conference with Junius, and 
also, most probably, of this letter. The conference 
certainly ended amicably, and, in that case, it was 


The Late Mrs Null, 


319 


scarcely possible that Junius had given up his claim. 
He was not that kind of a man. 

If Mr Croft had become convinced that he ought 
to retire from this contest, and had done so, and 
Roberta had been informed of it, that would explain 
everything that had happened. Roberta’s state of 
mind, after she had had the talk in the parlor 
with Junius, and her hurried departure, without 
taking the slightest notice of either of the gen¬ 
tlemen, was quite natural. What woman would 
like to know that she had been bargained about, 
and that her two lovers had agreed which of them 
should have her ? It was quite to be expected that 
she would be very angry, at first, though there was 
no doubt she would get over it, so far as Junius was 
concerned. 

Having thus decided, entirely to her own satis¬ 
faction, that this was the state of affairs, she thought 
it was a grand thing that there were two such young 
men in the world, as her cousin and Mr Croft, who 
could arrange such an affair in so kindly and honorable 
a manner, without feeling that they were obliged to 
fight—that horribly stupid way in which such things 
used to be settled. 

This vision of masculine high-mindedness, which 
Miss Annie had called up, seemed very pleasant to 
her, and her mental satisfaction was denoted by a 
pretty little glow which came into her face, and 
by a certain increase of sprightliness in her walk. 
“Now then,— ’’she said to herself; and although 
she did not finish the sentence, even in her own 


320 


The Late Mrs Null, 


mind, the sky increased the intensity of its beau¬ 
tiful blue; the sun began to shine with a more 
golden radiance; the little birds who had not yet 
gone South, chirped to each other as merrily as 
if it had been early summer; the yellow and purple 
wild flowers of autumn threw into their blossoms a 
richer coloring; and even the blades of grass seemed 
to stretch themselves upward, green, tender, and 
promising; and when the young lady skipped up 
the step of the post-office, she dropped the letter 
into Miss Harriet Corvey’s little box, with the air 
of a mother-bird feeding a young one with the first 
ripe cherry of the year. 

A day or two after this, Lawrence found himself 
able, by the aid of a cane and a rude crutch, which 
Uncle Isham had made for him and the top of 
which Mrs Keswick had carefully padded, to make 
his way from the office to the house ; and, after that, 
he took his meals, and passed the greater part of his 
time in the larger edifice. Sometimes, he ransacked 
the old library ; sometimes, Miss Annie read to him ; 
and sometimes, he read to her. In the evening, there 
were games of cards, in which the old lady would 
occasionally take a hand, although more frequently 
Miss Annie and Mr Croft were obliged to content 
themselves with some game at which two could play. 
But the pleasantest hours, perhaps, were those which 
were spent in talking, for Lawrence had travelled a 
good deal, and had seen so many of the things in 
foreign lands which Miss Annie had always wished 
that she could see. 


The Late Mrs Null. 


321 


Lawrence was waiting until he should hear from 
Mr Keswick; so that, with some confidence in his 
position, he could write to Miss March. His trunk 
had been sent over from the Green Sulphur Springs, 
and he was much better satisfied to wait here than 
at that deserted watering-place. It was, indeed, a 
very agreeable spot in which to wait, and quite near 
enough to Midbranch for him to carry on his desired 
operations, when the time should arrive. He was a 
little annoyed that Keswick’s answer should be so 
long in coming, but he resolved not to worry himself 
about it. The answer was, probably, a difficult letter 
to write, and one which Keswick would not be likely 
to dash off in a hurry. He remembered, too, that 
the mail was sent and received only twice a week at 
Hewlett’s. 

Old Mrs Keswick was kind to him, but grave, and 
rather silent. Once she passed the open door of 
the parlor, by the window of which sat Miss Annie 
and Lawrence, deeply engaged, their heads together, 
in studying out something on a map, and as she 
went upstairs she grimly grinned, and said to her¬ 
self : “ If that Null could look in and see them now, 
I reckon our young man would wish he had the use 
of all his arms and legs.” 

But if Mr Null should disapprove of his wife and 
that gentleman from New York spending so much 
of their time together, old Mrs Keswick had not the 
least objection in the world. She was well satisfied 
that Mr Croft should find it interesting enough to 
stay here until the time came when he should be 
21 


322 


The Late Mrs Null. 


able to go to Midbranch. When that period arrived 
she would not be slow to urge him to his duty, in 
spite of any obstacles Mr Brandon might put in his 
way. So, for the present, she possessed her soul in 
as much peace as the soul of a headstrong and very 
wilful old lady is capable of being possessed. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


The letter which Lawrence Croft had written to 
Junius Keswick was not answered for more than a 
week, and when the answer arrived, it did not come 
through the Hewlett’s post-office, but was brought 
from a mail station on the railway by a special mes¬ 
senger. In this epistle Mr Keswick stated that he 
would have written much sooner but for the fact 
that he had been away from Washington, and hav¬ 
ing just returned, had found Mr Croft’s letter wait¬ 
ing for him. The answer was written in a tone 
which Lawrence did not at all expect. It breathed 
the spirit of a man who was determined, and almost 
defiant. It told Mr Croft that the writer did not 
now believe that Miss March’s acceptance of the said 
Mr Croft, should be considered of any value, what¬ 
ever. It was the result of a very peculiar condition 
of things, in which he regretted having taken a part, 
and it was given in a moment of pique and indigna¬ 
tion, which gave Miss March a right to reconsider 
her hasty decision, if she chose to do so. It would 
not be fair for either of them to accept, as conclu¬ 
sive, words said under the extraordinary circum¬ 
stances which surrounded Miss March when she 
said those words. 


324 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“You asked me to do you a favor,” wrote Jun¬ 
ius Keswick, “ and, very much against my incli¬ 
nation, and against what is now my judgment, I did 
it. I now ask you to do me a favor, and I do not 
think you should refuse it. I ask you not to com¬ 
municate with Miss March until I have seen her, 
and have obtained from her an explanation of the 
acceptance in question. I have a right to this 
explanation, and I feel confident that it will be 
given to me. You ask me what I truly believe 
Miss March meant by her message to you. I an¬ 
swer that I do not know, but I intend to find 
out what she meant, and as soon as I do so, I 
will write to you. I think, therefore, considering 
what you have asked me to do, and what you have 
written to me, about what I have done, that you 
cannot refuse to abstain from any further action in 
the matter, until I am enabled to answer you. I 
cannot leave Washington immediately, but I shall 
go to Midbranch in a very few days.” 

This letter was very far from being a categorical 
answer to Lawrence’s questions, and it disappointed 
and somewhat annoyed that gentleman; but after he 
had read it for the second time, and carefully con¬ 
sidered it, he put it in his pocket and said to himself, 
“ This ends all discussion of this subject. Mr Kes¬ 
wick may be right in the position he takes, or he 
may be wrong. He may go to Midbranch ; he may 
get his explanation ; and he may send it to me. 
But, without any regard to what he does, or says, 
or writes, I shall go to Miss March as soon as I am 


The Late Mrs Null. 


325 


able to use my ankle, and, whether she be at her 
uncle’s house, or whether she has gone to New 
York, or to any other place, I shall see her, and, 
myself, obtain from her an explanation of this ac¬ 
ceptance. This is due to me as well as to Mr Kes¬ 
wick, and if he thinks he ought to get it, for himself, 
I also think I ought to get it, for myself.” 

The good results of Lawrence’s great care in regard 
to his injured ankle soon began to show themselves. 
The joint had slowly but steadily regained its strength 
and usual healthy condition; and Lawrence now 
found that he could walk about without the assist¬ 
ance of his rude crutch. He was still prudent, how¬ 
ever, and took but very short walks, and in these he 
leaned upon his trusty cane. The charming autumn 
days, which often come to Virginia in late October 
and early November, were now at their best. Day 
after day, the sun shone brightly, but there was in 
the air an invigorating coolness, which made its 
radiance something to be sought for and not 
avoided. 

It was just after dinner, and it was Saturday 
afternoon, when Miss Annie announced that she was 
going to see old Aunt Patsy, whom she had some¬ 
what neglected of late. 

“ May I go with you ? ” said Lawrence. 

Miss Annie shook her head doubtfully. “ I should 
be very glad to have your company,” she said, “ but 
I am afraid it will be entirely too much of a walk 
for you. The days are so short that the sun will be 
low before we could get back, and if you should be 


326 


The Late Mrs Null, 


tired, it would not do for you to sit down and rest, 
at that time of day.” 

“ I believe,” said Lawrence, “ that my ankle is 
quite strong enough for me to walk to Aunt Patsy’s 
and back, without sitting down to rest. I would be 
very glad to go with you, and I w^ould like, too, to 
see that venerable colored woman again.” 

“ Well,” said Miss Annie, “ if you really think you 
can walk so far, it will be very nice indeed to have 
you go, but you ought to feel very sure that it will 
not hurt you.” 

“ Come along,” said Lawrence, taking up his hat 
and cane. 

After a man has been shut up, as Lawrence had 
been, a pleasant ramble like this is a most delightful 
change, and he did not hesitate to manifest his 
pleasure. This touched the very sensitive soul of 
his companion, and with such a sparkle of talk did 
she evince her gratification, that almost any one 
would have been able to see that she was a young 
lady who had an earnest sympathy with those who 
had undergone afflictions, but were now freed from 
them. 

Aunt Patsy was glad to see her visitors, particu¬ 
larly glad, it seemed, to see Mr Croft. She -was 
quite loquacious, considering the great length of her 
days, and the proverbial shortness of her tongue. 

“Why, Aunt Patsy,” said Miss Annie, “you seem 
to have grown younger since I last saw you ! I do 
believe you are getting old backwards! What are 
you going to do with that dress-body ?” 


The Late Mrs Null. 


327 


“ I’s lookin’ at dis h’yar,” said Aunt Patsy, turn¬ 
ing over the well-worn body of a black woollen dress 
which lay in her lap, instead of the crazy quilt 
on which she was usually occupied, “ to see if it’s 
done gib way in any ob de seams, or de elbers. 
’Twas a right smart good frock once, an’ I’s gwine 
to wear it ter-morrer.” 

“To-morrow!” exclaimed Annie. “You don’t 
mean to say you are going to church! ” 

“ Dat’s jus’ wot I’s gwine to do, Miss Annie. I’s 
gwine to chu’ch ter-morrer mawnin’. Bar’s gwine to 
be a big preachin’. Brudder Enick Hines is to be 
dar, an’ dey tell me dey alius has pow’ful wakenin’s 
when Brudder Enick preaches. I ain’t ever heered 
Brudder Enick yit, coz he was a little boy when I 
use to go to chu’ch.” 

“ Will it be in the old church, in the woods just 
beyond Howlett’s?” asked Annie. 

“ Right dar,” replied Aunt Patsy, with an approv¬ 
ing glance towards the young lady. “You ’mem¬ 
bers dem ar places fus’ rate. Miss Annie. Why you 
didn’t tole me, when you fus’ come h’yar, dat you 
was dat little Miss Annie dat I use to tote roun’ 
afore I gin up walkin’ ? ” 

“ Oh, that’s too long a story,” said Miss Annie, 
with a laugh. “You know I hadn’t seen Aunt Kes¬ 
wick, then. I couldn’t go about introducing myself 
to other people before I had seen her.” 

Aunt Patsy gave a sagacious nod of her head. 
“ I reckon you thought she’d be right much dis¬ 
gruntled when she heered you was mar’ed, an’ you 


328 


The Late Mrs NulL 


wanted to tell her youse’f. But Fs pow’ful glad dat 
it’s all right now. You all don’ know how pow’ful 
glad I is.” And she looked at Mr Croft and Miss 
Annie with a glance as benignant as her time-set 
countenance was capable of. 

“ But Aunt Patsy,” said Annie, quite willing to 
change the conversation, although she did not know 
the import of the old woman’s last remark, “ I 
thought you were not able to go out.” 

The old woman gave a little chuckle. “ Dat’s 
wot eberybody thought, an’ to tell you de truf. Miss 
Annie, I thought so too. But ef I was strong ’nuf 
to go to de pos’-offis,—an’ I did dat. Miss Annie, an’ 
not long ago nuther,—I reckon I’s strong ’nuf to go 
to chu’ch, an’ Uncle Isham is a cornin’ wid de ox¬ 
cart to take me ter-morrer mawnin’. Bar’ll be 
pow’ful wakenin’s, an’ I ain’t seen de Jerus’lum 
Jump in a mighty long time.” 

“Are they going to have the Jerusalem Jump?” 
asked Miss Annie. 

“ Oh, yaas. Miss Annie,” said the old woman, 
“ dey’s sartin shuh to hab dat, when dey gits wak- 
en d. 

“ I should so like to see the Jerusalem Jump 
again,” said Miss Annie. “ I saw it once, when I 
was a little girl. Did you ever see it ? ” she said, 
turning to Mr Croft. 

“ I have not,” he answered. “ I never even heard 
of it.” 

“ Suppose we go to-morrow, and hear Brother 
Enoch,” she said. 


The Late Mrs NtdL ' 


329 


“ I should like it very much,” answered Lawrence. 

“Aunt Patsy,” said Miss Annie, “would there 
be any objection to our going to your church to¬ 
morrow ? ” 

The old woman gave her head a little shake. 
“Dunno,” she said. “As a gin’ral rule we don’t 
like white folks at our preachin’s. Dey’s got dar 
chu’ches, an’ dar ways, an’ we’s got our chu’ches, an’ 
our ways. But den it’s dif’rent wid you all. An’ 
you all’s not like white folks in gin’ral, an’ ’specially 
strawngers. You all isn’t strawngers now. I don’t 
reckon dar’ll be no ’jections to your cornin’, ef you 
set solium, an’ I know you’ll do dat. Miss Annie, 
coz you did it when you was a little gal. An’ I 
reckon it’ll be de same wid him?” looking at Mr 
Croft. 

Miss Annie assured her that she and her com¬ 
panion would be certain to “ sit solemn,” and that 
they would not think of such a thing as going to 
church and behaving indecorously. 

“Dar is white folks,” said Aunt Patsy, “wot 
comes to a culled chu’ch fur nothin’ else but to larf. 
De debbil gits dem folks, but dat don’ do us no 
good. Miss Annie, an’ we’d rudder dey stay away. 
But you all’s not dat kine. I knows dat, sartin 
shuh.” 

When the two had taken leave of the old woman, 
and Miss Annie had gone out of the door. Aunt 
Patsy leaned very far forward, and stretching out 
her long arm, seized Mr Croft by the skirt of his 
coat. He stepped back, quite surprised, and then 


330 


The Late Mrs Null. 


she said to him, in a low but very earnest voice : I 
reckon dat dat ar sprain ankle was nuffin but a acci- 
den’; but you look out, sah, you look out ! Hab 
you got dem little shoes handy?” 

‘‘ Oh, yes,” said Lawrence. “ I have them in my 
trunk.” 

Keep ’em whar you kin put your han’ on ’em,” 
said Aunt Patsy, impressively. ^‘You may want 
’em yit. You min’ my wuds.” 

“ I shall be sure to remember,” said Lawrence, as 
he hastened out to rejoin Annie. 

“ What in the world had Aunt Patsy to say to 
you ? ” asked that somewhat surprised young lady. 

Then Lawrence told her how some time before 
Aunt Patsy had given him a pair of blue shoes, 
which she said would act as a preventive charm, in 
case Mrs Keswick should ever wish to do him harm, 
and that she had now called him back to remind 
him not to neglect this means of personal protec¬ 
tion. I can’t imagine,” said Lawrence, “ that your 
aunt would ever think of such a thing as doing me 
a harm, or how those little shoes would prevent her, 
if she wanted to, but I suppose Aunt Patsy is crack- 
brained on some subjects, and so I thought it best 
to humor her, and took the shoes.” 

“ Do you know,” said Miss Annie, after walking a 
little distance in silence, “ that I am afraid Aunt 
Patsy has done a dreadful thing, and one I never 
should have suspected her of. Aunt Keswick had 
a little baby once, and it died very young. She 
keeps its clothes in a box, and I remember when I 


The Late Mrs Null. 


331 


was a little girl that she once showed them to me, 
and told me I was to take the place of that little 
girl, and that frightened me dreadfully, because I 
thought that I would have to die, and have my 
clothes put in a box. I recollect perfectly that 
there was a pair of little blue shoes among these 
clothes, and Aunt Patsy must have stolen them.” 

“ That surprises me,” said Lawrence. ‘‘ I sup¬ 
posed, from what I had heard of the old woman, 
that she was perfectly honest.” 

“ So she is,” said Annie. “ She has been a trusted 
servant in our family nearly all her life. But sbme 
negroes have very queer ideas about taking certain 
things, and I suppose Aunt Patsy had some particu¬ 
lar reason for taking those shoes, for, of course, they 
could be of no value to her.” 

“ I am very sorry,” said Lawrence, “ that such 
sacred relics should have come into my possession, 
but I must admit that I would not like to give them 
back to your aunt.” 

“ Oh, no,” said Annie, “ that would never do ; and 
I wouldn’t dare to try to find her box, and put them 
in it. It would seem like a desecration for any hand 
but her own to touch those things.” 

“ That is true,” said Lawrence, “ and you might 
get yourself into a lot of trouble by endeavoring to 
repair the mischief. Before I leave here, we may 
think of some plan of disposing of the little trotters. 
It might be well to give them back to Aunt Patsy 
and tell her to restore them.” 

“ I don’t know,” said Miss Annie, with a slowness 


332 


The Late Mrs NulL 


of reply, and an irrelevance of demeanor, which in¬ 
dicated she was not thinking of the words she was 
speaking. 

The sun was now very near the horizon, and that 
evening coolness which, in the autumn, comes on so 
quickly after the sunshine fades out of the air, made 
Lawrence give a little shrug with his shoulders. 
He proposed that they should quicken their pace, 
and as his companion made no objection, they soon 
reached the house. 

The next day being Sunday, breakfast was rather 
later than usual, and as Lawrence looked out on 
the bright morning, with the mists just disengag¬ 
ing themselves from the many-hued foliage which 
crowned the tops of the surrounding hills; and on 
the recently risen sun, hanging in an atmosphere of 
grey and lilac, with the smile of Indian summer on 
its face; he thought he would like to take a stroll, 
before that meal; but either the length of his 
walk on the previous day, or the rapidity of the lat¬ 
ter portion of it, had been rather too much for the 
newly-recovered strength of his ankle, which now felt 
somewhat stiff and sore. When he mentioned this 
at the breakfast table, he received a good deal of 
condolence from the two ladies, especially Mrs Kes¬ 
wick. And, at first, it was thought that it might be 
well for him to give up his proposed attendance at 
the negro church. But to this Lawrence strongly 
objected, for he very much desired to see some of 
the peculiar religious services of the negroes. He 
had been talking on the subject the evening before 


The Late Airs Null, 


333 


with Mrs Keswick, who had told him that in this 
part of the country, which lay in the “ black belt ” 
of Virginia, where the negro population had always 
been thickest, these ceremonies were more charac¬ 
teristic of the religious disposition of the African, 
than in those sections of the State where the white 
race exerted a greater influence upon the manners 
and customs of the colored people. 

But it will not be necessary to walk much,” said 
Miss Annie. “We can take the spring-wagon, and 
you can go with us, aunt.” 

The old lady permitted herself a little grin. 
“ When I go t,o church,” she said, “ I go to a white 
folks’ church, and try to see what I can of white 
folks’ Christianity, though I must say that Christian¬ 
ity of the other color is often just as good, as far as 
works go. But it is natural that a stranger should 
want to see what kind of services the colored people 
have, so you two might as well get into the spring- 
wagon and go along.” 

“But shall we not deprive you of the vehicle?” 
said Lawrence. 

“ I never go to church in the sprihg-wagon,” said 
the old lady, “ so long as I am able to walk. And, 
besides, this is not our Sunday for preaching.” 

It seemed to Lawrence that an elderly person who 
went about in a purple calico sun-bonnet, and with 
an umbrella of the same material, might go to 
church in a wheelbarrow, so far as appearances were 
concerned, but he had long ceased to wonder at Mrs 
Keswick’s idiosyncrasies. 


334 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“ I remember very well,” said Miss Annie, after 
the old lady had left the table, which she always did 
as soon as she had finished a meal, “ when Aunt 
Keswick used to go to church in a big family car¬ 
riage, which is now sleeping itself to pieces out 
there in the barn. But then she had a pair of big 
gray horses, one of them named Doctor and the other 
Colonel. But now she has only one horse, and I am 
going to tell Uncle Isham to harness that one up 
before he goes to church himself. You know he is 
to take Aunt Patsy in the ox-cart, so he will have to 
go early.” 

They went to the negro church in the spring- 
wagon, Lawrence driving the jogging sorrel, and 
Miss Annie on the seat beside him. When 
they reached the old frame edifice in the woods be¬ 
yond Howlett’s, they found gathered there quite a 
large assemblage, for this was one of those very at¬ 
tractive occasions called a “ big preaching.” Horses 
and mules, and wagons of various kinds, many of the 
latter containing baskets of refreshments, were 
standing about under the trees; and Mrs Keswicks 
cart and oxen, tethered to a little pine tree, gave 
proof that Aunt Patsy had arrived. The inside of 
the church was nearly full, and outside, around the 
door, stood a large number of men and boys. 
The white visitors were looked upon with some 
surprise, but way was made for them to approach 
the door, and as soon as they entered the building two 
of the officers of the church came forward to show 
them to one of the uppermost seats; but this honor 


The Late Mrs Null, 


335 


Miss Annie strenuously declined. She preferred a 
seat near the open door, and therefore she and Mr 
Croft were given a bench in that vicinity, of which 
they had sole possession. 

To Lawrence, who had never seen anything of 
the sort, the services which now began were ex¬ 
ceedingly interesting; and as Annie had not been 
to a negro church since she was a little girl, and 
very seldom then, she gave very earnest and ani¬ 
mated attention to what was going on. The sing¬ 
ing, as it always is among the negroes, was powerful 
and melodious, and the long prayer of Brother 
Enoch Hines was one of those spirited and emo¬ 
tional statements of personal condition, and wild 
and ardent supplication, which generally pave the 
way for a most powerful awakening in an assem¬ 
blage of this kind. Another hymn, sung in more 
vigorous tones than the first one, warmed up the 
congregation to such a degree that when Brother 
Hines opened the Bible, and made preparations for 
his discourse, he looked out upon an audience as 
anxious to be moved and stirred as he was to move 
and stir it. The sermon was intended to be a long 
one, for, had it been otherwise. Brother Hines had 
lost his reputation; and, therefore, the preacher, after 
a few prefatory statements, delivered in a grave and 
solemn manner, plunged boldly into the midst of his 
exhortations, knowing that he could go either back¬ 
ward or forward, presenting, with equal acceptance, 
fresh subject matter, or that already used, so long as 
his strength held out. 


336 


The Late Mrs Null. 


He had not preached half an hour before his 
hearers were so stirred and moved, that a majority 
of them found it utterly impossible to merely sit 
still andjisten. In different ways their awakening 
was manifested; some began to sing in a low voice ; 
others gently rocked their bodies; while fervent 
ejaculations of various kinds were heard from all 
parts of the church. From this beginning, arose 
gradually a scene of religious activity, such as Law¬ 
rence had never imagined. Each individual allowed 
his or her fervor to express itself according to the 
method which best pleased the worshipper. Some 
kept to their seats, and listened to the words of the 
preacher, interrupting him occasionally by fervent 
ejaculations ; others sang and shouted, sometimes 
standing up, clapping their hands and stamping their 
feet ; while a large proportion of the able-bodied 
members left their seats, and pushed their way for¬ 
ward to the wide, open space which surrounded the 
preacher’s desk, and prepared to engage in the ex¬ 
hilarating ceremony of the “Jerusalem Jump.” 

Two concentric rings were formed around the 
preacher, the inner one composed of women, the 
outer one of men, the faces of those forming 
the inner ring being turned towards those in the 
outer. As soon as all were in place, each brother 
reached forth his hand, and took the hand of the 
sister opposite to him, and then each couple began 
to jump up and down violently, shaking hands and 
singing at the top of their voices. After about a 
minute of this, the two circles moved, one, one 


The Late Mrs Null, 


337 


way and one another, so that each brother found 
himself opposite a different sister. Hands were 
again immediately seized, and the jumping, hand¬ 
shaking, and singing went on. Minute by minute 
the excitement increased; faster the worshippers 
jumped, and louder they sang. Through it all 
Brother Enoch Hines kept on with his sermon. It 
was very difficult now to make himself heard, and 
the time for explanation or elucidation had long 
since passed ; all he could do was to shout forth cer¬ 
tain important and moving facts, and this he did 
over and over again, holding his hand at the side of 
his mouth, as if he were hailing a vessel in the wind. 
Much of what he said was lost in the din of the 
jumpers, but ever and anon could be heard ringing 
through the church the announcement: “ De wheel 
ob time is a turnin’ roun’! ” 

In a group by themselves, in an upper corner of 
the congregation, were four or five very old women, 
who were able to manifest their pious enthusiasm in 
no other way than by rocking their bodies back¬ 
wards and forwards, and singing with their cracked 
voices a gruesome and monotonous chant. This 
rude song had something of a wild and uncivilized 
nature, as if it had come down to these old people 
from the savage rites of their African ancestors. 
They did not sing in unison, but each squeaked or 
piped out her, “ Yi, wiho, yi, hoo ! ” according to the 
strength of her. lungs, and the degree of her exalta¬ 
tion. Prominent among these was old Aunt Patsy; 
her little black eyes sparkling through her great 


22 


338 


The Late Mrs Null. 


iron-bound spectacles; her head and body moving 
in unison with the wild air of the unintelligible chant 
she sang; her long, skinny hands clapping up and 
down upon her knees; while her feet, encased in 
their great green baize slippers, unceasingly beat 
time upon the floor. 

So many persons being absent from their seats, 
the group of old women was clearly visible to Annie 
and Lawrence, and Aunt Patsy also could easily see 
them. Whenever her head, in its ceaseless moving 
from side to side, allowed her eyes to fall upon the 
two white visitors, her ardor and fervency increased, 
and she seemed to be expressing a pious gratitude 
that Miss Annie and he, whom she supposed to be 
her husband, were still together in peace and safety. 

Annie was much affected by all she saw and 
heard. Her face was slightly pale, and occasionally 
she was moved by a little nervous tremor. Mr 
Croft, too, was very attentive. His soul was not 
moved to enthusiasm, and he did not feel, as his 
companion did, now and then, that he would like to 
jump up and join in the dancing and the shouting; 
but the scene made a very strong impression upon 
him. 

Around and around went the two rings of i^en 
and women, jumping, singing, and hand-shaking. 
Out from the centre of them came the stentorian 
shout: De wheel ob time is a turnin’ roun’! ” 

From all parts of the church rose snatches of 
hymns, exultant shouts, groans, and prayers; and, 
in the corner, the shrill chants of the old women 


The Late Mrs Null. 


339 


were fitfully heard through the storm of discordant 
worship. 

In the midst of all the wild din and hubbub, the 
soul of Aunt Patsy looked out from the habitation 
where it had dwelt so long, and, without giving the 
slightest notice to any one, or attracting the least 
attention by its movements, it silently slipped away. 

The old habitation of the soul still sat in its chair, 
but no one noticed that it no longer sang, or beat 
time with its hands and feet. 

Not long after this, Lawrence looked round at his 
companion, and noticed that she was slightly trem¬ 
bling. “ Don’t you think we have had enough of 
this? ” he whispered. 

^‘Yes,” she answered. And they rose and went 
out. They thought they were the first who had 
left. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


When Mr Croft and Miss Annie got into the 
spring-wagon, and the head of the sorrel was turned 
away from the church, Lawrence looked at his 
watch, and remarked that, as it was still quite early, 
there might be time for a little drive before going 
back to the house for dinner. The face of the 
young lady beside him was still slightly pale, and 
the thought came to him that it would be very well 
for her if her mind could be diverted from the ab¬ 
normally inspiriting scene she had just witnessed. 

“ Dinner will be late to-day,” she said, “ for I 
saw Letty doing her best among the Jerusalem 
Jumpers.” 

“Very well,” said he, “we will drive. And now, 
where shall we go ?” 

“ If we take the cross-road at the store,” said Miss 
Annie, “ and go on for about half a mile, we can 
turn into the woods, and then there is a beautiful 
road through the trees, which will bring us out on 
the other side of Aunt Keswick’s house. Junius 
took me that way not long ago.” 

So they turned at the store, much to the disgust 
of the plodding sorrel, who thought he was going 
directly home, and they soon reached the road that 
led through the .woods. This was hard and sandy, 


The Late Mrs Null, 


341 


as are many of the roads through the forests in that 
part of the country, and it would have been a very 
good driving road, had it not been for the occasional 
protrusion of tree roots, which gave the wheels a lit¬ 
tle bump, and for the branches which, now and then, 
hung down somewhat too low for the comfort of 
a lady and gentleman, riding in a rather high spring- 
wagon without a cover. But Lawrence drove slowly, 
and so the root bumps were not noticed ; ant /vhen 
the low-hanging boughs were on his side, he lifted 
them so that his companion’s head could pass 
under and, when they happened to be on her side, 
Annie ducked her head, and her hat was never 
brushed off. But, at times, they drove quite a dis¬ 
tance without overhanging boughs, and the pine 
trees, surrounded by their smooth carpet of brown 
spines, gave forth a spicy fragrance in the warm, 
but sparkling air; the oak trees stood up still dark 
and green ; while the chestnuts were all dressed 
in rich yellow, with the chinquepin bushes by, the 
roadside imitating them in color, as they tried to 
do in fruit. Sometimes a spray of purple flowers 
could be seen among the trees, and great patches 
of sunlight which, here and there, came through the 
thinning foliage, fell, now upon the brilliantly scarlet 
leaves of a sweet-gum, and now upon the polished 
and brown-red dress of a neighboring black-gum. 

The woods were very quiet. There was no sound 
of bird or insect, and the occasional hare, or Molly 
Cotton-tail,” as Annie delightedly called it, who 
hopped across the road, made no noise at all. A 


342 


The Late Mrs Null. 


gentle wind among the tops of the taller trees made 
a sound as of a distant sea ; but, besides this, little 
was heard but the low, crunching noise of the 
wheels, and the voices of Lawrence and Miss Annie. 

Reaching a place where the road branched, Law¬ 
rence stopped the horse, and looked up each leafy 
lane. They were completely deserted. . White 
people seldom walked abroad at this hour on Sun¬ 
day, and the negroes of the neighborhood were at 
church. “ Is not this a frightfully lonely place ? " 
he said. “ One might imagine himself in a desert.” 

“ I like it,” replied Annie. It is so different 
from the wild, exciting tumult of that church. I 
am glad you took me away. At first I would not 
have missed it for the world, but there seemed to 
come into the stormy scene something oppressive, 
and almost terrifying.” 

“ I am glad I took you away,” said Lawrence, 
“ but it seems to me that your impression was not 
altogether natural. I thought that, amid all that 
mad enthusiasm, you were over-excited, not de¬ 
pressed. A solemn solitude like this would, to my 
thinking, be much more likely to lower your spirits. 
I don’t like solitude, myself, and therefore, I sup¬ 
pose it is that I thought an impressible nature, like 
yours, would find something sad in the loneliness of 
these silent woods.” 

Annie turned, and fixed on him her large gray 
eyes. “ But I am not alone,” she said. 

As Lawrence looked into her eyes he saw that 
they were as clear as the purest crystal, and that he 


The Late Mrs Null. 


343 


could look through them straight into her soul, and 
there he saw that this woman loved him. The 
vision was as sudden as if it had been a night scene 
lighted up by a-flash of lightning, but it was as clear 
and plain as if it had been that same scene under 
the noonday sun. 

There are times in the life of a man, when the ^ 
goddess of Reasonable Impulse raises her arms j 
above her head, and allows herself a little yawn. 
Then she takes off her crown and hangs it on the 
back of her throne ; after which she rests her sceptre 
on the floor, and, rising, stretches herself to her 
full height, and goes forth to take a long, refreshing 
^-jwalk by the waters of Unreflection. Then her 
i minister. Prudence, stretches himself upon a bench, 
:j!and, with his handkerchief over his eyes, composes 
' himself for a nap. Discretion, Worldly Wisdom, 
Jand other trusted officers of her court, and even, 
i sometimes, that agile page called Memory, no sooner 
see their royal mistress depart than, by various 
doors, they leave the palace and wander far away. 

' Then, silently, with sparkling eyes, and parted lips, 
comes that fair being. Unthinking Love. She puts 
one foot upon the lower step of the throne ; she 
looks about her; and, with a quick bound, she 
seats herself. Upon her tumbled curls she hastily 
puts the crown; with her small white hand she 
grasps the sceptre ; and then, rising, waves it, and 
issues her commands. The crowd of emotions 
which serve as her satellites, seize the great seal from 
the sleeping Prudence, and the new Queen reigns! 



344 


The Late Mrs Null. 


All this now happened to Lawrence. Never 
before had he looked into the eyes of a woman 
who loved him; and, leaning over towards this 
one, he put his arm around her and drew her 
towards him. “ And never shall you be alone,” he 
said. 

She looked up at him with tears starting to her 
eyes, and then she put her head against his breast. 
She was too happy to say anything, and she did 
not try. 

It was about a minute after this, that the sober 
sorrel, who took no interest in what had occurred 
behind him, and a great deal of interest in his 
stable at home, started in an uncertain and hesi¬ 
tating way; and, finding that he was not checked, 
began to move onward. Lawrence looked up from 
the little head upon his breast, and called out, 
“Whoa!” To this, however, the sorrel paid no 
attention. Lawrence then put forth his right hand 
to grasp the reins, but having lately forgotten all 
about them, they had fallen out of the spring-wagon, 
and were now dragging upon the ground. It was 
impossible for him to reach them, and so, seizing the 
whip, he endeavored with its aid to hook them up. 
Failing in this, he was about to jump out and run 
to the horse’s head; but, perceiving his intention, 
Annie seized his arm. “Don’t you do it!” she 
exclaimed. “You’ll ruin your ankle!” 

Lawrence could not but admit to himself that he 
was not in condition to execute any feats of agility, 
and he also felt that Annie had a very charming 


The Late Mrs Null, 


345 


way of holding fast to his arm, as if she had a 
right to keep him out of danger. And now the 
sorrel broke into the jog-trot which was his usual 
pace. It is very provoking/’ said Lawrence, “ I 
don’t think I ever allowed myself to drop the reins 
before.” 

“ It doesn’t make the slightest difference,” said 
Annie, comfortingly. “ This old horse knows the 
road perfectly well, and he doesn’t need a bit of 
driving. He will take us home just as safely as if 
you held the reins, and now don’t you try to get 
them, for you will only hurt yourself.” 

^‘Very well,” said Lawrence, putting his arm 
around her again, I am resigned. But I think 
you are very brave to sit so quiet and composed, 
under the circumstances.” 

She looked at him with a smile. Such a little 
circumstance don’t count, just now,” she said. “You 
must stop that,” she added, presently, “ when we 
get to the edge of the woods.” 

Before long, they came out into the open country 
and found themselves in a lane which led by a 
wide circuit to the road passing Mrs Keswick’s 
house. The old sorrel certainly behaved admirably; 
he held back when he descended a declivity; he 
walked over the rough places; and he trotted stead¬ 
ily where the road was smooth. 

“ It seems like our Fate,” said Annie, who now 
sat up without an arm around her, the protecting 
woods having been left behind, “ he just takes us 
along without our having anything to do with it.” 




346 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“ He is not much of a horse,” said Lawrence, 
clasping, in an unobservable way, the little hand 
which lay by his side, “ but the Fate is charming.” 

Fortunately there was no one upon the road to 
notice the reinless plight in which these two young 
people found themselves, and they were quite as well 
satisfied as if they had been doing their own driving. 
After a little period of thought, Annie turned an 
earnest face to Lawrence, and she said : Do you 
know that I never believed that you were really in 
love with Roberta March.” 

Lawrence squeezed her hand, but did not reply, 
He knew very well that he had loved Roberta! 
March, and he was not going to lie about it. ^ 

‘‘ I thought so,” she continued, “ because I did 
. not believe that any one, who was truly in love, 
would want to send other people about, to propose 
for him, as you did.” 

‘‘That is not exactly the state of the case,” he 
said, “ but we must not talk of those things now. j 
That is all passed and gone.” ' 

“ But if there ever was any love,” she persisted, 

“ are you sure that it is all gone ? ” 

“ Gone,” he answered, earnestly, “ as utterly and 
completely as the days of last summer.” 

And now the sorrel, of his own accord, stopped 
at Mrs Keswick’s outer gate; and Lawrence, getting 
down, took up the reins, opened the gate, and drove 
to the house in quite a proper way. 

When Mr Croft helped Annie to descend from 
the spring-wagon, he did not squeeze her hand, nor 


The Late Mrs Null, 


347 


exchange with her any tender glances, for old Mrs 
Keswick was standing at the top of the steps. 

“ Have you seen Letty she asked. 

“Letty?” said Miss Annie. “Oh, yes,” she added, 
as if she suddenly remembered that such a person 
existed, “ Letty was at church, and she was very 
active.” 

“ Well,” said the old lady, “ she must have taken 
more interest in the exercises than you did, for it is 
long past the time when I told her she must be 
home.” 

“ I do not believe, madam,” said Lawrence, “that 
any one could have taken mor^ interest in the exer¬ 
cises of this morning, than we have.” 

At this, Annie could not help giving him a little 
look which would have provoked reflection in the 
mind of the old lady, had she not been very ear¬ 
nestly engaged in gazing out into the road, in the 
hope of seeing Letty. 

When Lawrence had gone into the office, and had 
closed the door behind him, he stood in a medita¬ 
tive mood before the empty fireplace. He was ^ 
making inquiries of himself in regard to what he 
had just done. He was not accusing himself, nor 
indulging in regrets; he was simply investigating 
the matter. Here he stood, a man accepted by two 
women. If he had ever heard of any other man 
in a like condition, he would have called that man 
a scoundrel, and yet he did not deem himself a 
scoundrel. 

The facts in the case were easy enough to under- 


348 


The Late Mrs Null. 


4f 

stand. For the first time in his life he had looked 
into the eyes of a woman who loved him, and he 
had discovered to his utter surprise that he loved 
her. There had been no plan; no prudent outlook 
into her nature and feelings ; no cautious insight into 
his own. He had taken part in a most unpremedi¬ 
tated act of pure and simple love; and that it was 
real and pure love on each side, he no more doubted 
than he doubted that he lived. And yet, had he 
been an impostor when, on that hill over there, he 
told Roberta March he loved her? No, he had been 
'honest, he had loved her; and, since the time that 
he had been roused, to action by the discovery of 
Junius Keswick’s intentions to renew his suit, it had 
been a love full of a rare and alluring beauty. But its 
charm, its fascination, its very existence, had disap¬ 
peared in the first flash of his knowledge that Annie 
Peyton loved him. Had his love for Roberta been 
a perfect one, had he been sure that she returned it, 
then it could not have been overthrown; but it had 
gone, and a love, complete and perfect, stood in its 
place. He had seen that he was loved, and he 
loved. That was all, but it would stand forever. 

This was the state of the case, and now Lawrence 
,set himself to discover if, in all ways, he had acted 
truly and honestly. He had been accepted by Miss 
■ March, but what sort of acceptance was it ? Should 
he, as a man true to himself, accept such an accept ¬ 
ance ? What was he to think of a woman who, 
very angry as he had been informed, had sent him a 
message, which meant everything in the world to 


The Late Mrs Null. 


349 


him, if it meant anything, and had then dashed 
away without allowing him a chance to speak to her, 
or even giving him a nod of farewell. The last 
thing she had really said to him in this connection 
were those cruel words on Pine Top Hill, with which 
she had asked him to choose a spot in which to 
be rejected. Could he consider himself engaged ? 
Would a woman who cared for him act towards him 
in such a manner ? After all, was that acceptance 
anything more than the result'of pique? And 
could he not, quite as justly, accept the rejection 
which she had professed herself an;xious to give him. 
^K short time before, Lawrence had done his best 
^to explain to his advantage these peculiarities of his 
status in regard to Miss March. He had said to 
himself that she had threatened to reject him be¬ 
cause she wished to punish him, and he had intended 
to implore her pardon, and expected to receive it. 
Over and over again, had he argued with himself in 
this strain, and yet, in spite of it all, he had not 
been able to bring himself into a state of mind in 
which he could sit down and write to her a letter, 
which, in his estimation, would be certain to seal and 
complete the engagement. “ How very glad I am,” 
he now said to himself, that I never wrote that 
letter! ” And this was the only decision at which 
he had arrived, when he heard Mrs Keswick calling 
to him from the yard. 

He immediately went to the door, when the old 
lady informed him, that as Letty had not come back, 
and did not appear to be intending to come back, and 


350 


The Late Mrs Null. 


that as none of the other servants on the place had 
made their appearance, he might as well come into 
the house, and try to satisfy his hunger on what cold 
food she and Mrs Null had managed to collect. 

The most biting and spicy condiments of the little 
meal, to which the three sat down, were supplied 
by Mrs Keswick, who reviled without stint those 
utterly thoughtless and heedless colored people, 
who, once in the midst of their crazy religious ex¬ 
ercises, totally forgot that they owed any duty 
whatever to those who employed them. Law¬ 
rence and Annie did not say much, but there was 
something peculiarly piquant in the way in which 
Annie brought and poured out the tea she had 
made, and which, with the exception of the old 
lady’s remarks, was the only warm part of the 
repast; and there was an element of buoyancy in 
the manner of Mr Croft, as he took his cup to drink 
the tea. Although he said little at this meal, he 
thought a great deal, listening not at all to Mrs 
Keswick’s tirades. “ What a charmingly incon¬ 
siderate affair this has been! ” he said to himself. 
“ Nothing planned, nothing provided for, or against; 
all spontaneous, and from our very hearts. I never 
thought to tell her that she must say nothing to 
her aunt, until we had agreed how everything 
should be explained, and I don’t believe the idea 
that it is necessary to say anything to anybody, 
has entered her mind. But I must keep my eyes 
away from her if I don’t want to bring on a prema¬ 
ture explosion.” 


The Late Mrs NulL 


351 


Whatever might be the result of the reasoning 
which this young man had to do with himself, it 
was quite plain that he was abundantly satisfied 
with things as they were. 

It was beginning to be dark, when Letty and 
Uncle Isham returned and explained why they had 
been so late in returning. 

Old Aunt Patsy had died in church. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


Lawrence,” said Annie, on the forenoon of 
the next day, as they were sitting together in 
the parlor with the house to themselves, Mrs Kes¬ 
wick having gone to Aunt Patsy’s cabin to super¬ 
vise proceedings there, “ Lawrence, don’t you feel 
glad that we did not have a chance to speak to dear 
old Aunt Patsy about those little shoes? Perhaps 
she had forgotten that she had stolen them, and so 
went to heaven without that sin on her soul.” 

“That is a very comfortable way of looking at 
it,” said Lawrence, “ but wouldn’t it be better to 
assume that she did not steal them ? ” 

“ I am very sorry,” said Annie, “ but that is 
not easy to do. But don’t let us think anything 
more about that. And, don’t you feel very glad 
that the poor old • creature, who looked so happy 
as she sat singing and clapping her hands on her 
knees, didn’t die until after we had left the church? 
If it had happened while we were there, I don’t 
believe—” 

“ Don’t believe what ? ” asked Lawrence. 

“Well, that you now would be sitting with your 
arm on the back of my chair.” 

Lawrence was quite sure, from what had been 


The Late Mrs Null, 


353 


told him, that Aunt Patsy’s demise had taken place 
before they left the church, but he did not say so 
to Annie. He merely took his arm from the back 
of her chair, and placed it around her. 

“ And do you know,” said she, “ that Letty told 
me something, this morning, that is so funny and yet 
in a certain way so pathetic, that it made me laugh 
and cry both. She said that Aunt Patsy al^yays 
thought that you were Mr Null.” 

At this, Lawrence burst out laughing, but Annie 
checked him and went on; And she told Letty in 
church, when she saw us two come in, that she 
believed she could die happy now, since she had 
seen Miss Annie married to such a peart gentleman, 
and that it looked as if old miss had got over her 
grudge against him.” 

“And didn’t Letty undeceive her?” asked Law¬ 
rence. 

“No, she said it would be a pity to upset the 
mind of such an old woman, and she didn’t do it.” 

“ Then the good Aunt Patsy died,” said Law¬ 
rence, “ thinking I was that wretched tramp of a 
bone-dust pedler, which the fancy of your aunt has 
conjured up. That explains the interest the vene¬ 
rable colored woman took in me. It is now quite 
easy to understand; for, if your aunt abused your 
mythical husband to everybody, as she did to me, I 
don’t wonder Aunt Patsy thought I was in danger.” 

“ Poor old woman,” said Annie, looking down at 
the floor, “ I am so glad that we helped her to die 
happy.” 


23 


354 


The Late Mrs Null. 


“ As she was obliged to anticipate the truth,” 
said Lawrence, “ in order to derive any comfort 
from it, I am glad she did it. But although I am 
delighted, more than my words can tell you, to take 
the place of your Mr Null, you must not expect me 
to have any of his attributes.” 

“Now just listen to me, sir,” said Annie. “I 
don’t want you to say one word against Mr Null. 
If it had not been for that good Freddy, things 
would have been very different from what they are 
now. If you care for me at all, you owe me en¬ 
tirely to Freddy Null.” 

“ Entirely ? ” asked Lawrence. 

“ Of course I mean in regard to opportunities of 
finding out things and saying them. If Aunt Kes¬ 
wick had supposed I was only Annie Peyton, she 
would not have allowed Mr Croft to interfere with 
her plans for Junius and me. I expected Mr Null 
to be of service to me, but no one could have 
imagined that he would have brought about any¬ 
thing like this.” 

“Blessed be Null!” exclaimed Lawrence. 

Annie asked him to please to be more careful, for 
how did he know that one of the servants might not 
be sweeping the front porch, and of course, they 
would look in at the windows. 

“ But, my dear child,” said Lawrence, pushing 
back his chair to a prudent distance, “ we must seri¬ 
ously consider this Null business. We shall have 
to inform your aunt of the present state of affairs, 
and before we do that, we must explain what sort of 


The Late Mrs Null. 


355 


person Frederick Null, Esquire, really was—I am not 
willing to admit that he exists, even as a myth.” 

“ Oh dear ! oh dear ! ” exclaimed Annie. “ We 
shall have a dreadful time! When Aunt Keswick 
knows that there never was any Mr Null, and then 
hears that you and I are engaged, it will throw her 
into the most dreadful state of mind that she has 
ever been in, in her life; and father has told me of 
some of the awful family earthquakes that Aunt 
Keswick has brought about, when things went 
wrong with her.” 

“We must’ be very cautious,” said Lawrence, 
“ and neither of us must say a word, or do anything 
that may arouse her suspicions, until we have settled 
upon the best possible method of making the facts 
known to her. The case is indeed a complicated one.’ 

“ And what makes it more so,” said Annie, “ is 
Aunt Keswick’s belief that you are in love with 
Miss March, and that you want to get a chance to 
propose to her. She does think that, doesn’t she ? ” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence, “I must admit that she 
does.” 

“ And she must be made to understand that that 
is entirely at an end,” continued Annie. “ All this 
will be a very difficult task, Lawrence, and I don’t 
see how it is to be done.” 

“ But we shall do it,” he answered, “and we must 
not forget to be very prudent, until it is fully set¬ 
tled how we shall do it.” 

When Lawrence retired to his room, and sat 
down to hold that peculiar court in which he was 


356 


The Late Mrs Null. 


judge, jury, lawyers, and witnesses, as well as the 
prisoner at the bar, he had to do with a case, a great 
deal more complicated and difficult than that which 
perplexed the mind of Miss Annie Peyton. He 
began by the very unjudicial act of pledging him¬ 
self, to himself, that nothing should interfere with 
this new, this true love. In spite of all that might 
be said, done, or thought, Annie Peyton should be 
his wife. There was no indecision, whatever, in re¬ 
gard to the new love; the only question was: 
“ What is to be done about the old one ? ” 

Lawrence could not admit, for a moment, that he 
could have spoken to Roberta March as he had 
spoken, if he had not loved her; but he could now 
perceive that that love had been in no small degree 
impaired and weakened by the manner of its accept¬ 
ance. The action of Miss March on her last day 
here had much more chilled his ardor than her 
words on Pine Top Hill. He had not, before, ex¬ 
amined thoroughly into the condition of that ardor 
after the departure of the lady, but it was plain 
enough now. 

There was, therefore, no doubt whatever in re¬ 
gard to his love for Miss March ; he was quite 
ready and able to lay that aside. But what about 
her acceptance of it ? How could he lay that 
aside ? 

This was the real case before the court. The wit¬ 
nesses could give no available testimony, the law¬ 
yers argued feebly, the jury disagreed, and Law¬ 
rence, in his capacity of judge, dismissed the case. 


The Late Mrs NulL 


357 


In his efforts to conduct his mind through the 
channels of law and equity, Lawrence had not satis¬ 
fied himself, and his thoughts began to be moved 
by what might be termed his military impulses. 

I made a charge into the camp,” he said with a 
little downward drawing of the corners of his 
mouth, “ and I did not capture the commander-in¬ 
chief. And now I intend to charge out again.” 

He sat down to his table, and wrote the following 
note: 

“ My Dear Miss March : 

“ I have been waiting for a good many days, hoping to receive, "/ 
either from you or Mr Keswick, an explanation of the message you 
sent to me by him. I now believe that it will be impossible to give a 
satisfactory explanation of that message. I therefore recur to our last 
private interview, and wish to say to you that I am ready, at any time, 
to meet you under either a sycamore or a cherry tree.” 

And then he signed it, and addressed it to Miss 
March at Midbranch. This being done, he put on 
his hat, and stepped out to see if a messenger could 
be found to carry the letter to its destination, for 
he did not wish to wait for the semi-weekly mail. 
Near the house he met Annie. 

“ What have you been doing all this time ? ” she 
asked. 

I have been writing a letter,” he said, “ and am 
now looking for some colored boy who will carry it 
for me.” 

“ Who is it to ? ” she asked. 

Miss March,” was his answer. 

“ Let me see it,” said Annie. 


358 


The Late Mrs Null, 


At this, Lawrence looked at her with wide-open 
eyes, and then he laughed. Never, since he had 
been a child, had there been any one who would 
have thought of such a thing as asking to see a 
private letter which he had written to some one 
else; and that this young girl should stand up 
before him with her straightforward expectant gaze 
and make such a request of him, in the first in- ^ 
stance, amused him. 

“ You don’t mean to say,” she added, “ that you 
would write anything to Miss March which you 
would not let me see.” 

‘‘ This letter,” said Lawrence, was written for 
Miss March, and no one else. It is simply the wind¬ 
ing up of that old affair.” 

“ Give it to me,” said Annie, “ and let me see 
how you wound it up.” 4^ 

Lawrence smiled, looked at her in silence for a ' 

moment, and then handed her the letter. -- 

“ I don’t want you to think,” she said, as she ^ 
took it, “ that I am going to ask you to show me all 
the letters you write. But when you write one to a 
lady Hke Miss March, I want to know what you say 
to her.” And then she read the letter. When she 
had finished, she turned to Lawrence, and with her 
countenance full of amazement, exclaimed: “ I 
haven’t the least idea in the world what all this 
means! What message did she send you ? And 
why should you meet her under a tree ? ” 

These questions went so straight to the core of 
the affair, and were so peculiarly difficult to answer, 


The Late Mrs Null, 


359 


that Lawrence, for the moment, found himself in 
the very unusual position of not knowing what to 
say, but he presently remarked : “ Do you think it 
j is of any advantage to either of us to talk over this 
i affair, which is now past and gone ? ” 

“ I don’t want to talk over any of it,” said 
Annie, very promptly, “ except the part of it 
which is referred to in this letter; but I want to 
know about that.” 

“ That covers the most important part of it,” said 
Lawrence. 

“ Very good,” she answered, “ and so you can tell 
it to me. And now, that I think of it, you can tell 
me, at the same time, why you wanted to find my 
cousin Junius. You refused once to tell me that, ' 
you know.” ^ ^ 

“ I remember,” said Lawrence. “ And if you ^ 
have the least feeling about it I will relate the whole 
affair, from beginning to end.” ^ 

“ That, perhaps, will be the best thing to do, after 
all,” said Annie. ‘‘And suppose we take a walk 
over the fields, and then you can tell it without be¬ 
ing interrupted.” 

But Lawrence did not feel that his ankle would 
allow him to accept this invitation, for it had hurt 
him a good deal since his walk to Aunt Patsy’s 
cabin. He said so to Annie, and excited in her the 
deepest feelings of commiseration. 

“ You must take no more walks of any length,” 
she exclaimed, “ until you are quite, quite well! It 
was my fault that you took that tramp to Aunt 


36 o 


The Late Mrs Null. 


Patsy’s. I ought to have known better. But then,” 
she said, looking up at him, “you were not under 
my charge. I shall take very good care of you 
now.” 

“ For my part,’’ he said, “ I am glad I have this 
little relapse, for now I can stay here longer.” 

“ I am very, very sorry for the relapse,” said she, 
“but awfully glad for the stay. And you mustn’t 
stand another minute. Let us go and sit in the 
arbor. The sun is shining straight into it, and that 
will make it all the more comfortable, while you are 
telling me about those things.” 

They sat down in the arbor, and Lawrence told 
Annie ^the whole history of his affair with Miss 
March, from the beginning to the end ; that is if the 
end had been reached; although he intimated to 
her no doubt upon this point. This avowal he hadS 
never expected to make. In fact he had never 
contemplated its possibility. But now he felt a 
certain satisfaction in telling it. Every item, as it 
was related, seemed thrown aside forever. “And 
now then, my dear Annie,” he said, when he had 
finished, “what do you think of all that?” 

“ Well,” she said, “ in the first place, I am still 
more of the opinion than I was before, that you 
never were really in love with her. You did entirely 
too much planning, and investigating, and calcula¬ 
ting; and when, at last, you did come to the conclu¬ 
sion to propose to her, you did not do it so much of 
your own accord, as because you found that another 
man would be likely to get her, if you did not make 


The Late Mrs Null, 


361 


a pretty quick move yourself. And as to that 
acceptance, I don’t think anything of it at all. I 
believe she was very angry at Junius because he 
consented to bring your messages, when he ought to 
have been his own messenger, and that she gave 
him that answer just to rack his soul with agony. 
I don’t believe she ever dreamed that he would take 
it to you. And, to tell the simple truth, I believe, 
from what I saw of her that morning, that she was 
thinking very little of you, and a great deal of him. 
[To be sure, she was fiery angry with him, but it is 
• better to be that way with a lover, than to pay no 
I attention to him at all.” 

‘ This w:as a view of the case which had never 
struck Lawrence before, and although it was not 
very flattering to him, it was very comforting. He 
felt that it was extremely likely that this young 
woman had been able to truthfully divine, in a case 
'in which he had failed, the motives of another young 
woman. Here was a further reason for congratula¬ 
ting himself that he had not written to Miss 
March. 

‘‘And as to the last part of the letter,” said 
Annie, “you are not going under any cherry tree, 
or sycamore either, to be refused by her. What' 
she said to you was quite enough for a final answer, 
without any signing or sealing under trees, or any¬ 
where else. I think the best thing that can be done 
with this precious epistle is to tear it up.” 

Lawrence was amused by the piquant earnestness 
of this decision. “ But what am I to do,” he asked. 


362 


The Late Mrs NulL 


“ I can’t let the matter rest in this unfinished and 
unsatisfactory condition.” 

“You might write to her,” said Annie, “and tell 
her that you have accepted what she said to you on 
Pine Top Hill as a conclusive answer, and that you 
now take back everything you ever said on the sub¬ 
ject you talked of that day. And do you think it 
would be well to put in anything about your being 
otherwise engaged ? ” 

At this Lawrence laughed. “ I think that expres¬ 
sion would hardly answer,” he said, “ but I will 
write another note, and we shall see hov/ you like it.” 

“ That will be very well,” said the happy Annie, 
“ and if I were you I’d make it as gentle as I could. 
It’s of no use to hurt her feelings.” 

“ Oh, I don’t want to do that,” said Lawrence, “ and 
now that we have the opportunity, let us consider 
the question of informing your aunt of our engage¬ 
ment.” 

“ Oh dear, dear, dear! ” said Annie, “ that is a 
great deal worse than informing Miss March that 
you don’t want to be engaged to her.” 

“That is true,” said Lawrence. “ It is not by any 
means an easy piece of business. But we might as 
well look it square in the face, and determine what 
is to be done about it.” 

It is simple enough, just as we look at it,” said 
Annie. “ All we have to do, is to say that, knowing 
that Aunt Keswick had written to my father that 
she was determined to make a match between cousin 
Junius and me, I was afraid to come down.here 


The Late Mrs Null, 


363 


without putting up some insurmountable obstacle 
between me and a man that I had not seen since I 
was a little girl. Of course I would say, very decid¬ 
edly, that I wouldn’t have married him if I hadn’t 
wanted to; but then, considering Aunt Keswick’s 
very open way of carrying out her plans, it would 
have been very unpleasant, and indeed impossible 
for me to be in the house with him unless she saw 
that there was no hope of a marriage between us ; 
and for this reason I took the name of Mrs Null, or 
Mrs Nothing; and came down here, secure under the 
protectioa of a husband who never existed. And 
then, we could say that you and I were a good deal 
together, and that, although you had supposed, 
when you came here, that you were in love with 
Miss March, you had discovered that this was a 
mistake, and that afterwards we fell in love with 
each other, and are now engaged. That would be a 
straightforward statement of everything, just as it 
happened; but the great trouble is: How are we 
going to tell it to Aunt Keswick?” 

“You are right,” said Lawrence. “ How are we 
going to tell it ? ” 

“ It need not be told ! ” thundered a strong voice 
close to their ears. And then there was a noise of 
breaking lattice-work and cracking vines, and through 
the back part of the arbor came an old woman wear¬ 
ing a purple sun-bonnet, and beating down all ob¬ 
stacles before her with a great purple umbrella. 
“You needn’t tell it!” cried Mrs Keswick, standing 
in the middle of the arbor, her eyes glistening, her 


3^4 


The Late Mrs Null. 


form trembling, and her umbrella quivering in the 
air. “You needn’t tell it ! It’s told ! ” 

Graphic and vivid descriptions have been written 
of those furious storms of devastating wind and del¬ 
uging rain, which suddenly sweep away the beauty 
of some fair tropical scene ; and we have read, too, of 
dreadful cyclones and tornadoes, which rush, in mad 
rage, over land and sea, burying great ships in a vast 
tumult of frenzied waves, or crushing to the earth 
forests, buildings, everything"* that may lie in their 
awful paths ; but no description could be written 
which could give an adequate idea of the storm 
which now burst upon Lawrence and Annie. The 
old lady had seen these two standing together in the 
yard, conversing most earnestly. She had then seen 
Annie read a letter that Lawrence gave her; and 
then she had perceived the two, in close converse, 
enter the arbor, and sit down together without the 
slightest regard for the rights of Mr Null. 

Mrs Keswick looked upon all this as somewhat 
more out-of-the-way than the usual proceedings of 
these young people, and there came into her mind 
a curiosity to know what they were saying to each 
oth^r. So she immediately repaired to the large 
garden, and quietly made her way to the back of the 
arbor, in which advantageous position she heard the 
whole of Lawrence’s story of his love-affair with Miss 
March ; Annie’s remarks upon the same, and the 
facts of this young lady’s proposed, confession in 
regard to her marriage with Mr Null, and her en¬ 
gagement to Mr Croft. 



The Late Mrs Null, 


365 


Then she burst in upon them; the tornado and 
the cyclone raged ; the thunder rolled and crashed ; 
and the white lightning of her wrath flashed upon 
the two, as if it would scathe and annihilate them, as 
they stood before her. Neither of them had ever 
known or imagined anything like this. It had been 
long since Mrs Keswick had had an opportunity of 
exercising that power of vituperative torment, which 
had driven a husband to the refuge of a reverted 
pistol; which had banished, for life, relatives and 
friends ; and which, in the shape of a promissory 
curse, had held apart those who would have been 
husband and wife; and now, like the long stored 
up venom of a serpent, it burst out with the direful 
force given by concentration and retention. 

At the first outburst, Annie had turned pale and 
shrunk back, but now she clung to the side of Law¬ 
rence, who, although his face was somewhat blanched 
and his form trembled a little with excitement, still 
stood up bravely, and endeavored, but ineffectually, 
to force upon the old lady’s attention a denial of her 
bitter accusations. With face almost as purple as 
the bonnet she wore, or the umbrella she shook in 
the air, the old lady first addressed her niece. With 
scorn and condemnation she spoke of the deceit 
which the young girl had practised upon her. But 
this part of the exercises was soon over. She seemed 
to think that although nothing could be viler than 
Annie’s conduct towards her, still the fact that Mr 
Null no longer existed, put Annie again within her 
grasp and control, and made it unnecessary to say 


366 


The Late Mrs Null. 


much to her on this occasion. It was upon Law¬ 
rence that the main cataract of her fury poured. It 
would be wrong to say that she could not find words 
to express her ire towards him. She found plenty 
of them, and used them all. He had deceived her 
most abominably; he had come there, the expressed 
and avowed lover of Miss March ; he had connived 
with her niece in her deceit; he had taken advan¬ 
tage of all the opportunities she gave him to attain 
the legitimate object of his visit, to inveigle into his 
snares this silly and absurd young woman; and he 
had dared to interfere with the plans, which, by day 
and by night, she had been maturing for years. In 
Vain did Lawrence endeavor to answer or explain. 
She stopped not, nor listened to one word. 

‘‘ And you need not imagine,” she screamed at 
him, that you are going to turn round, when you 
like, and marry anybody you please. You are en¬ 
gaged, body and soul, to Roberta March, and have 
no right, by laws of man or heaven, to marry any¬ 
body else. If you breathe a word of love to any 
other woman it makes-you a vile criminal in the eyes 
of the law, and renders you liable to prosecution, 
sir. Your affianced bride knows nothing of what 
her double-faced snake of a lover is doing here, but 
she shall know speedily. That is a matter which I 
take into my own hands. Out of rny way, both of 
you ! ” 

And with these words she charged by them, and 
rushed out of the arbor, and into the house. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


They were not a happy pair, Lawrence Croft and 
Annie Peyton, as they stood together in the arbor, 
after old Mrs Keswick had left them. They were 
both a good deal shaken by the storm they had 
passed through. 

Lawrence,” said Annie, looking up to him with 
her large eyes full of earnestness, “there surely is 
no truth in what she said about your being legally 
bound to Miss March?” 

“ None in the least,” said Lawrence. “ No man, 
under the circumstances, would consider himself en¬ 
gaged to a woman. At any rate, there is one thing 
which I wish you to understand, and that is that I 
am not engaged to Miss March, and that I am en¬ 
gaged to you. No matter what is said or done, you 
and I belong to each other.” 

Annie made no answer, but she pressed his hand 
tightly as she looked up into his face. He kissed 
her as she stood, notwithstanding his belief that old 
Mrs Keswick was fully capable of bounding down on 
him, umbrella in hand, from an upper window. 

“What do you think she is going to do?” Annie 
asked presently. 

“ My dear Annie,” said he, “ I do not believe that 
there is a person on earth who could divine what 


368 


The Late Mrs Null. 


your Aunt Keswick is going to do. As to that, we 
must simply wait and see. But, for my part, I know 
what I must do. I must write a letter to Miss 
March, and inform her, plainly and definitely, that I 
have ceased to be a suitor for her hand. I think 
also that it will be well to let her know that we are 
engaged ? ” 

Yes,” said Annie, ‘‘ for she will be sure to hear it 
now. But she will think it is a very prompt pro¬ 
ceeding.” 

“ That’s exactly what it was,” said Lawrence, 
smiling, prompt and determined. There was no 
doubt or indecision about any part of our affair, was 
there, little one ? ” 

“ Not a bit of it,” said Annie, proudly. 

At dinner that day Annie took her place at one 
end of the table, and Lawrence his at the other, but 
the old lady did not make her appearance. She was 
so erratic in her goings and comings, and had so 
often told them they must never wait for her, that 
Annie cut the ham, and Lawrence carved the fowl, 
and the meal proceeded without her. But while 
they were eating Mrs Keswick was heard coming 
down stairs from her room, the front door was 
opened and slammed violently, and from the dining¬ 
room windows they saw her go down the steps, 
across the yard, and out of the gate. 

“ I do hope,” ejaculated Annie, “ that she has not 
gone away to stay ! ” 

If Annie had remembered that the boy Plez, in 
a clean jacket and long white apron, officiated as 



The Late Mrs Null, 


369 


waiter, she would not have said this, but then she 
would have lost some information. “ Ole miss 
not gone to stay,” he said, with the license of 
an untrained retainer. “She gone to Howlettses, 
an’ she done tole Aun’ Letty she’ll be back agin dis 
ebenin’.” 

“ If Aunt Keswick don’t come back,” said Annie> 
when the two were in the parlor after dinner, “ I 
shall go after her. I don’t intend to drive her out 
of the house.” 

“ Don’t you trouble yourself about that, my dear,” 
said Lawrence. “ She is too angry not to come 
back.” 

“ There is one thing,” said Annie, after a while, 
“ that we really ought to do. To-morrow Aunt 
Patsy is to be buried, and before she is put into the 
ground, those little shoes should be returned to 
Aunt Keswick. It seems to me that justice to poor 
Aunt Patsy requires that this should be done. Per¬ 
haps now she knows how wicked it w’as to steal 
them.” 

“ Yes,” said Lawrence, “ I think it would be well 
to put them back where they belong; but how can 
you manage it ?” 

“ If you will give them to me,” said Annie, “ I 
will go up to aunt’s room, now that she is away, 
and if she keeps the box in the same place where it 
used to be. I’ll slip them into it. I hate dreadfully 
to do it, but I really feel that it is a duty.” 

When Lawrence, with some little difficulty, walked 
across the yard to get the shoes from his trunk. 


24 


370 


The Late Mrs Null, 


Annie ran after him, and waited at the office door. 
“ You must not take a step more than necessary,” 
she said, “ and so I won’t make you come back to 
the house.” 

When Lawrence gave her the shoes, and her hand 
a little squeeze at the same time, he told her that 
he should sit down immediately and write his letter. 

And I,” said Annie, “will go, and see what I can 
do with these.” 

With the shoes in her pocket, she went up stairs 
into her aunt’s room, and, after looking around 
hastily, as if to see that the old lady had not left 
the ghost of herself in charge, she approached the 
closet in which the sacred pasteboard box had 
always been kept. But the closet was locked. 
Turning away she looked about the room. There 
was no other place in which there was any proba¬ 
bility that the box would be kept. Then she 
became nervous; she fancied she heard the click 
of the yard gate; she would not for anything have 
her aunt catch her in that room; nor would she 
take the shoes away with her. Hastily placing 
them upon a table she slipped out, and hurried into 
her own room. 

It was about an hour after this, that Mrs Keswick 
came rapidly up the steps of the front porch. She 
had been to Howlett’s to carry a letter which she had 
written to Miss March, and had there made arrange¬ 
ments to have that letter taken to Midbranch very 
early the next morning. She had wished to find 
some one who would start immediately, but as there 


The Late Mrs Null, 


371 


was no moon, and as the messenger would arrive 
after the family were all in bed, she had been 
obliged to abandon this more energetic line of 
action. But the letter would get there soon enough; 
and if it did not bring down retribution on the 
head of the man who lodged in her office, and who, 
she said to herself, had worked himself into her 
plans, like the rot in a field of potatoes, she would 
ever after admit that she did not know how to write 
a letter. All the way home she had conned over 
her method of action until Mr Brandon, or a letter, 
should come from Midbranch. 

She had already attacked, together, the unprin¬ 
cipled pair who found shelter in her house, and she 
now determined to come upon them separately, and 
torment each soul by itself. Annie, of course, 
would come in for the lesser share of the punish¬ 
ment, for the fact that the wretched and depraved 
Null was no more, had, in a great measure, mitigated 
her offence. She was safe, and her aunt intended 
to hold her fast, and do with her as she would, when 
the time and Junius came. But upon Lawrence she 
would have no mercy. When she had delivered 
him into the hands of Mr Brandon, or those of 
Roberta’s father, or the clutches of the law, she 
would have nothing more to do with him, but until 
that time she would make him bewail the day when 
he deceived and imposed upon her by causing her to 
believe that he was in love with another when he 
was, in reality, trying to get possession of her niece. 
There were a great many things which she had 


3/2 


The Late Mrs Null. 


not thought to say to him in the arbor, but she 
would pour the whole hot mass upon his head that 
evening. 

Stamping up the stairs, and thumping her um¬ 
brella upon every step as she went, hot vengeance 
breathing from between her parted lips, and her 
eyes flashing with the delight of prospective fury, 
she entered her room. The light of the afternoon 
had but just begun to wane, and she had not made 
three steps into the apartment, before her eyes fell 
upon a pair of faded, light blue shoes, which stood 
side by side upon a table. She stopped suddenly, 
and stood, pale and rigid. Her grasp upon her um¬ 
brella loosened, and, unnoticed, it fell upon the 
floor. Then, her eyes still fixed upon the shoes, 
she moved slowly sidewise towards the closet. She 
tried the door, and found it still locked ; then she 
put her hand in her pocket, drew out the key, 
looked at it, and dropped it. With faltering steps 
she drew near the table, and stood supporting her¬ 
self by the back of a chair. Any one else would 
have seen upon that table merely a pair of baby’s 
shoes; but she saw more. She saw the tops of the 
little socks which she had folded away for the last 
time so many years before; she saw the first short 
dress her child had ever worn; it was tied up with 
pink ribbons at the shoulders, from which hung two 
white, plump, little arms. There was a little neck, 
around which was a double string of coral fastened 
by a small gold clasp. Above this was a face, a 
baby face, with soft, pale eyes, and its head covered 


The Late Mrs Null, 


373 


with curls of the lightest yellow, not arranged in 
artistic negligence, but smooth, even, and regular, as 
she so often had turned, twisted, and set them. It 
was indeed her baby girl who had come to her as 
clear and vivid in every feature, limb, and garment, 
as were the real shoes upon the table. For many 
minutes she stood, her eyes fixed upon the little 
apparition, then, slowly, she sank upon her knees by 
the chair, her sun-bonnet, which she had not re¬ 
moved, was bowed, so the pale eyes of the little one 
could not see her face, and from her own eyes came 
the first tears that that old woman had shed since 
her baby’s clothes had been put away in the box. 

Lawrence’s letter to Miss March was a definitely 
expressed document, intended to cover all the 
g/bund necessary, and no more; but it could not be 
said that it was entirely satisfactory to himself. 
His case, to say the least of it, was a difficult one to^ 
defend. He was aware that his course might be 
looked upon by others as dishonorable, although he 
assured himself that he had acted justly. It might 
have been better to wait for a positive declaration 
from Miss March, that she had not truly accepted 
him, before engaging himself to another lady. But 
then, he said to himself, true love never waits for 
anything. At all events, he could write no better 
letter than the one he had produced, and he hoped 
he should have an opportunity to show it to Annie 
before he sent it. 

He need not have troubled himself in this regard, 


374 


The Late Mrs Null, 


for he and Annie were not disturbed during the rest 
of that day by the appearance of Mrs Keswick ; but 
after the letter had been duly considered and ap-- 
proved, he found it difficult to obtain a messenger. 
There was no one on the place who would under¬ 
take to walk to Midbranch, and he could not take 
the liberty of using Mrs Keswick’s horse for the 
trip, so it was found necessary to wait until the 
morrow, when the letter could be taken to Row¬ 
lett’s, where, if no one could be found to carry it im¬ 
mediately, it would have to be entrusted to the 
mail which went out the next day. Lawrence, of 
course, knew nothing of Mrs Keswick’s message to 
Midbranch, or he would have been still more desir¬ 
ous that his letter should be promptly dispatched. 

The evening was not a very pleasant one; the 
lovers did not know at what moment the old Is^y 
might descend upon them, and the element of un¬ 
pleasant expectancy which pervaded the atmos¬ 
phere of the house was somewhat depressing. 
They talked a good deal of the probabilities of Mrs 
Keswick’s action. Lawrence expected that she 
would order him away, although Annie had stoutly 
maintained that her aunt would have no right to do 
this, as he was not in a condition to travel. This 
argument, however, made little impression upon 
Lawrence, who was not the man to stay in any house 
where he was not wanted; besides, he knew very 
well that for any one to stay in Mrs Keswick’s 
house when she did not want him, would be an im¬ 
possibility. But he did not intend to slip away in 


The Late Mrs Null, 


375 


any cowardly manner, and leave Annie to bear 
alone the brunt of the second storm. He felt sure 
that such a storm was impending, and he was also 
quite certain that its greatest violence would break 
upon him. He would stay, therefore, and meet the 
old lady when she next descended upon them, and, 
before he went away, he would endeavor to utter 
some words in defence of himself and Annie. 

They separated early, and a good deal of thinking 
was done by them before they went to sleep. 

The next morning they had only each other for 
company at breakfast, but they had just risen from 
that meal when they were startled by the entrance 
of Mrs Keswick. Having expected her appearance 
during the whole of the time they were eating, they 
had no reason to be startled by her coming now, 
but" for their subsequent amazement at her appear¬ 
ance and demeanor, they had every reason in the 
world. Her face was pale and grave, with an air of 
rigidity about it, which was not common to her, for, 
in general, she possessed a very mobile countenance. 
Without speaking a word, she advanced towards 
Lawrence, and extended her hand to him. He was 
so much surprised that while he took her hand in 
his he could only murmur some unintelligible form 
of morning salutation. Then Mrs Keswick turned 
to Annie, and shook hands with her. The young 
girl grew pale, but said not a word, but some tears 
came into her eyes, although why this happened 
she could not have explained to herself. Having 
finished this little performance, the old lady walked 


37^ 


The Late Mrs Null, 


to the back window, and looked out into the flowef 
garden, although there was really nothing there 
to see. Now Annie found voice to ask her aunt if 
she would not have some breakfast. 

“No,” said Mrs Keswick, “my breakfast was 
brought up-stairs to me.” And with that she 
turned and went out of the room. She closed the 
door behind her, but scarcely had she done so, when 
she opened it again and looked in. It was quite 
plain, to the two silent and astonished observers of 
her actions, that she was engaged in the occupation, 
very unusual with her, of controlling an excited 
condition of mind. She looked first at one, and 
then at the other, and then she said, in a voice which 
seemed to meet with occasional obstructions in its 
course: “ I have nothing more to say about any¬ 
thing. Do just what you please, only don’t talk to 
me about it.” And she closed the door. 

“ What is the meaning of all this ? ” said Lawrence, 
advancing towards Annie. “ What has come over 
her ? ” 

“I am sure I don’t know,” said Annie, and with 
this she burst into tears, and cried as she would 
have scorned to cry, during the terrible storm of the 
day before. 

That morning, Lawrence Croft was a very much 
puzzled man. What had happened to Mrs Kes¬ 
wick he could not divine, and at times he imagined 
that her changed demeanor was perhaps nothing but 
an artful cover to some new and more ruthless attack. 

Annie took occasion to be with her aunt a good 


Tha Late Mrs Null, 


377 


deal during the morning, but she reported to Law¬ 
rence that the old lady had said very little, and that 
little related entirely to household affairs. 

Mrs Keswick ate dinner with them. Her manner 
was grave, and even stern ; but she made a few re¬ 
marks in regard to the weather and some neighbor¬ 
hood matters ; and before the end of the meal both 
Lawrence and Annie fancied that they could see some 
little signs of a return to her usual humor, which 
was pleasant enough when nothing happened to 
make it otherwise. But expectations of an early re¬ 
turn to her ordinary manner of life were fallacious; 
she did not appear at supper; and she spent the 
evening in her own room. Lawrence and Annie 
had thus ample opportunity to discuss this novel 
and most unexpected state of affairs. They did 
not understand it, but it could not fail to cheer and 
encourage them. Only one thing they decided 
upon, and that was that Lawrence could not go 
away until he had had an opportunity of fully com¬ 
prehending the position, in relation to Mrs Keswick, 
in which he and Annie stood. 

About the middle of the evening, as Lawrence 
was thinking that it was time for him to retire tb 
his room in the little house in the yard, Letty came 
in with a letter which she said had been brought 
from Midbranch by a colored man on a horse; the 
man had said there was no answer, and had gone 
back to Howlett’s, where he belonged. 

The letter was for Mr Croft and from Miss March. 
Very much surprised at receiving such a missive, 


378 


The Late Mrs Null. 


Lawrence opened the envelope. His letter to Miss 
March had not yet been sent, for the new state of 
affairs had not only very much occupied his mind, 
but it also seemed to render unnecessary any haste 
in the matter, and he had concluded to mail the 
letter the next day. This, therefore, was not in 
answer to anything from him ; and why should she 
have written ? 

It was. with a decidedly uneasy sensation that 
Lawrence began to read the letter, Annie watch¬ 
ing him anxiously as he did so. The letter was a 
somewhat long one, and the purport of it was as 
follows: The writer stated that, having received 
a most extraordinary and astounding epistle from 
old Mrs Keswick, which had been sent by a special 
messenger, she had thought it her duty to write im¬ 
mediately on the subject to Mr Croft, and had de¬ 
tained the man that she might send this letter by 
him. She did not pretend to understand the full 
purport of what Mrs Keswick had written, but it 
was evident that the old lady believed that an 
engagement of marriage existed between herself 
(Miss March) and Mr Croft. That that gentleman 
had given such information to Mrs Keswick she 
could hardly suppose, but, if he had, it must have 
been in consequence of a message which, very much 
to her surprise and grief, had been delivered to Mr 
Croft by Mr Keswick. In order that this message 
might be understood, Miss March had determined 
to make a full explanation of her line of conduct 
towards Mr Croft. 


The Late Mrs Null, 


379 


During the latter part of their pleasant inter¬ 
course at Midbranch during the past summer, she 
had reason to believe that Mr Croft’s intentions in 
regard to her were becoming serious, but she had also 
perceived that his impulses, however earnest they 
might have been, were controlled by an extra¬ 
ordinary, caution and prudence, which, although it 
sometimes amused her, was not in the least degree 
complimentary to her. She could not prevent her¬ 
self from resenting this somewhat peculiar action of 
Mr Croft, and this resentment grew into a desire, 
which gradually became a very strong one, that she 
might have an opportunity of declining a proposal 
from him. That opportunity came while they were 
both at Mrs Keswick’s, and she had intended that 
what she said at her last interview with Mr Croft 
should be considered a definite refusal of his suit, 
but the interview had terminated before she had 
stated her mind quite as plainly as she had purposed 
doing. She had not, however, wished to renew the 
conversation on the subject,’and had concluded to 
content herself with what she had already said; 
feeling quite sure that her words had been sufficient 
to satisfy Mr Croft that it would be useless to make 
any further proposals. 

When, on the eve of her departure from the 
house, Mr Keswick had brought her Mr Croft’s 
message, she was not only amazed, but indignant; 
not so much at Mr Croft for sending it, as at Mr Kes¬ 
wick for bringing it. Miss March was not ashamed 
to confess that she was irritated and incensed to a 


38 o 


The Late Mrs Null, 


high degree that a gentleman who had held the posi¬ 
tion towards her that Mr Keswick had held, should 
bring her such a message from another man. She 
was, therefore, seized with a sudden impulse to 
punish him, and, without in the least expecting that 
he would carry such an answer, she had given him 
the one which he had taken to Mr Croft. Having, 
until the day on which she was writing, heard 
nothing further on the subject, she had supposed 
that her expectations had been realized. But on 
this day the astonishing letter from Mrs Keswick 
had arrived, and it made her understand that not 
only had her impulsive answer been delivered, but 
that Mr. Croft had informed other persons that he 
had been accepted. She wished, therefore, to lose 
no time in stating to Mr Croft that what she had 
said to him, with her own lips, was to be received as 
her final resolve ; and that the answer given to Mr 
Keswick was not intended for Mr'Croft’s ears. 

Miss March then went on to say that it might be 
possible that she owed Mr Croft an apology for.the 
somewhat ungracious manner in which she had 
treated him at Mrs Keswick’s house; but she assured 
herself that Mr. Croft owed her an apology, not only 
for the manner of his attentions, but for the peculiar 
publicity he had given them. In that case the apol¬ 
ogies neutralized each other. Miss March had no 
intention of answering Mrs Keswick’s letter. Under 
no circumstances could she have considered, for a 
moment, its absurd suggestions and recommenda¬ 
tions ; and it contained allusions to Mr. Croft and 


The Late Mrs NulL 


381 

another person which, if not founded upon the 
imagination of Mrs Keswick, certainly concerned 
nothing with which Miss March had anything to do. 

The proud spirit of Lawrence Croft was a good 
deal ruffled when he read this letter, but he made 
no remark about it. “Would you like to read it?’' 
he said to Annie. 

She greatly desired to read it, but there was some¬ 
thing in her lover’s face, and in the tone in which he 
spoke, which made her suspect that the reading of 
that letter might be, in some degree, humiliating to 
him. She was certain, from the expression of his 
face as he read it, that the letter contained matter 
very unpleasant to Lawrence, and it might be that 
it would wound him to have another person, especi¬ 
ally herself, read them; and so she said: “ I don’t 
care to read it if you will tell me why she wrote to 
you, and the point of what she says.” 

“ Thank you,” said Lawrence. And he crumpled 
the letter in his hand as he spoke. “ She wrote,” he 
continued, “ in consequence of a letter she has had 
from your aunt.” 

“ What! ” exclaimed Annie. “ Did Aunt Keswick 
write to her ? ” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence, “and sent it by a special 
messenger. She must have told her all the heinous 
crimes with which she charged you and me, partic¬ 
ularly me; and this must have been the first intima¬ 
tion to Miss March that her cousin had given me 
the answer she made to him; therefore Miss March 
writes in haste to let me know that she did not 


382 


The Late Mrs Null. 


intend that that answer should be given to me, 
and that she wishes it generally understood that I 
have no more connection with her than I have with 
the Queen of Spain. That is the sum and substance 
of the letter.” 

I knew as well as I know anything in the world,” 
said Annie, “that that message Junius brought you 
meant nothing.” And, taking the crumpled letter 
from his hand, she threw it on the few embers that 
remained in the fireplace; and, as it blazed and 
crumbled into black ashes, she said : “Now that is 
the end of Roberta March!” 

“Yes,” said Lawrence, emphasizing his remark 
with an encircling arm, “so far as we are concerned, 
that is the end of her.” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


On the next day, old Aunt Patsy was buried. 
Mrs Keswick and Annie attended the ceremonies in 
the cabin, but they did not go to the burial. After 
a time, it might be in a week or two, or it might be 
in a year, the funeral sermon would be preached in 
the church, and they would go to hear that. Aunt 
Patsy never finished her crazy quilt, several pieces 
being wanted to one corner of it; but in the few 
days , preceding her burial two old women of the 
congregation, with trembling hands and uncertain 
eyes, sewed in these pieces, and finished the quilt, in 
which the body of the venerable sister was wrapped, 
according to her well-known wish and desire. It is 
customary among the negroes to keep the re¬ 
mains of their friends a very short time after 
death, but Aunt Patsy had lived so long upon 
this earth that it was generally conceded that her 
spirit would not object to her body remaining above 
ground until all necessary arrangements should be 
completed, and until all people who had known or 
heard of her had had an opportunity of taking a 
last look at her. As she had been so very well 
known to almost everybody’s grandparents, a good 
many people availed themselves of this privilege. 


384 


The Late Mrs Null. 


After Mrs Keswick's return from Aunt Patsy’s 
cabin, where, according to her custom, she made her¬ 
self very prominent, it was noticeable that she had 
dropped some of the grave reserve in which she had 
wrapped herself during the preceding day. It was 
impossible for her, at least but for a very short time, 
to act in a manner unsuited to her nature ; and re¬ 
serve and constraint had never been suited to her 
nature. She, therefore, began to speak on general 
subjects in her ordinary free manner to the various 
persons in her house; but it must not be supposed 
that she exhibited any contrition for the outrageous 
way in which she had spoken to Annie and Law¬ 
rence, or gave them any reason to suppose that the 
laceration of their souls on that occasion was a 
matter which, at present, needed any consideration 
whatever from her. An angel, born of memory and 
imagination, might come to her from heaven, and so 
work upon her superstitious feelings as to induce 
her to stop short in her course of reckless vengeance ; 
but she would not, on that account, fall upon any¬ 
body’s neck, or ask forgiveness for anything she had 
done to anybody. She did not accuse herself, nor 
repent; she only stopped. “ After this,” she said, 
“you all can do as you please. I have no further 
concern with your affairs. Only don’t talk to me 
about them.” 

She told Lawrence, in a manner that would seem 
to indicate a moderate, but courteous, interest in his 
welfare, that he must not think of leaving her house 
until his ankle had fully recovered its strength ; and 


The Late Mrs Null. 


385 


she even went so far as to suggest the use of a patent 
lotion which she had seen at.the store at Hewlett’s. 
She resumed her former Mtercourse with Annie, but 
it seemed impossible for her to entirely forget the 
deception which that young lady had practised upon 
her. The only indication, however, of this resent¬ 
ment was the appellation which she now bestowed 
upon her niece. In speaking of her to Lawrence, or 
any of the household, she invariably called her “the 
late Mrs Null,” and this title so pleased the old lady 
that she soon began to use it in addressing her niece. 
Annie occasionally remonstrated in a manner which 
seemed half playful, but was in fact quite earnest, 
but her aunt paid no manner of attention to her 
words, and continued to please herself by this half- 
sarcastic method of alluding to her niece’s fictitious 
matrimonial state. 

Letty, and the other servants, were at first much 
astonished by the new title given to Miss Annie, and 
the only way in which they could explain it was by 
supposing that Mr Null had gone off somewhere 
and died ; and although they could not understand 
why Miss Annie should show so little grief in the 
matter, and why she had not put on mourning, they 
imagined that these were customs which she had 
learned in the North. 

Lawrence advised Annie to pay no attention to 
this whim of her aunt. “ It don’t hurt either of us,” 
he said, “ and we ought to be very glad that she has 
let us off so easily. But there is one thing I think 
you ought to do; you should write to your cousin 
25 


386 


The Late Mrs Null. 


Junius, and tell him of our engagement; but I would 
not refer at all to the other matter; you are not 
supposed to have anythinj^to do with it, and Miss 
March can tell him as much about it as she chooses. 
Mr Keswick wrote me that he was going to Mid¬ 
branch, and that he would communicate with me 
while there, but, as I have not since heard from him, 
I presume he is still in Washington.” 

A letter was, therefore, written by Annie, and ad¬ 
dressed to Junius, in Washington, and Lawrence 
drove her to the railroad station in the spring-wagon, 
where it was posted. The family mail came bi¬ 
weekly to Howlett’s, as the post-office at the rail¬ 
road station was entirely too distant for convenience; 
and as Saturday approached it was evident, from Mrs 
Keswick’s occasional remarks and questions, that she 
expected a letter. It was quite natural for Law¬ 
rence and Annie to surmise that this letter was ex¬ 
pected from Miss March, for Mrs Keswick had not 
heard of any rejoinder having been made to her 
epistle to that lady. When, late on Saturday after¬ 
noon, the boy Plez returned from Rowlett’s, Mrs 
Keswick eagerly took from him the well-worn letter- 
bag, and looked over its contents. There was a 
letter for her and from Midbranch, but the address 
was written by Junius, not by Miss March. There 
was another in the same hand-writing for Annie. As 
the old lady looked at the address on her letter, and 
then on its post-mark, she was evidently disappoint¬ 
ed and displeased, but she said nothing, and went 
away with it to her room. 


The Late Mi's Null, 


387 


Annie’s letter was in answer to the one she had 
sent to Washington, which had been promptly for¬ 
warded to Midbranch where Junius had been for 
some days. It began by expressing much surprise 
at the information his cousin had given him in 
regard to her assumption of a married title, and 
although she had assured him she had very good 
reasons, he could not admit that it was right and 
proper for her to deceive his aunt and himself in 
this way. If it were indeed necessary that other 
persons should suppose that she were a married 
woman, her nearest relatives, at least, should have 
been told the truth. 

At this passage, Annie, who was reading the let¬ 
ter aloud, and Lawrence who was listening, both 
laughed. But they made no remarks, and the read¬ 
ing proceeded. 

Junius next alluded to the news of his cousin’s 
engagement to Mr Croft. His guarded remarks on 
this subject showed the kindness of his heart. He 
did not allude to the suddenness of the engagement, 
nor to the very peculiar events that had so recently 
preceded it; but reading between the lines, both 
Annie and Lawrence thought that the writer had 
probably given these points a good deal of con¬ 
sideration. In a general way, however, it was im¬ 
possible for him to see any objection to such a 
match for his cousin, and this was the impression 
he endeavored to give in a very kindly way, in his 
congratulations. But, even here, there seemed to 
be indications of a hope, on the part of the writer. 


388 


The Late Mrs Null. 


I that Mr Croft would not see fit to make another 
short tack in his course of love. 

Like the polite gentleman he was, Mr Keswick 
allowed his own affairs to come in at the end of the 
letter. Here he informed his cousin that his en¬ 
gagement with Miss March had been renewed, and 
that they were to be married shortly after Christmas. 
As it must have been very plain to those who were 
■ present when Miss March left his aunt’s house, that 
she left in anger with him, he felt impelled to say 
that he had explained to her the course of action 
to which she had taken exception, and although 
she had not admitted that that course had been a 
justifiable one, she had forgiven him. He wished 
also to say at this point that he, himself, was not at 
all proud of what he had done. 

“ That was intended for me,” interrupted Law¬ 
rence. 

“ Well, if you understand it, it is all right,” said 
Annie. 

Junius went on to say that the renewal of his 
engagement was due^ in great part, to Miss March's 
visit to his aunt; and to a letter she had received 
from her. A few days of intercourse with Mrs 
Keswick, whom she had never before se'en, and the 
tenor and purpose of that letter, had persuaded 
Miss March that his aunt was a person whose mind 
had passed into a condition when its opposition or 
its action ought not to be considered by persons 
who were intent upon their own welfare. His 
own arrival at Midbranch, at this juncture, had 


The Late Mrs Null. 389 

resulted in the happy renewal of their engage¬ 
ment. 

“ I don’t know Junius half as well as I wish I 
did,” said Annie, as she finished the letter, “ but I 
am very sure, indeed, that he will make a good hus¬ 
band, and^J am glad he has got Roberta March—as 
he wants Her. 

“ Did you emphasize ‘ he ’ ? ” asked Lawrence., 

“ I will emphasize it, if you would like to hear me 
do it,” said she. 

“ It’s very queer,” remarked Annie, after a little 
pause, “ that I should have been so anxious to pre¬ 
serve poor Junius from your clutches, and that, after 
all I did to save him, I should fall into those clutches 
myself.” 

Whereupon Lawrence, much to her delight, told 
her the story of the anti-detective. 

Mrs Keswick sat down in her room, and read her 
letter. She had no intention of abandoning her 
resolution to let things go as they would; and, there¬ 
fore, did not expect to follow up, with further words 
or actions, anything she had written in her letter to 
Roberta March. But she had had a very strong 
curiosity to know what that lady would say in 
answer to said letter, and she was therefore disap¬ 
pointed and displeased that the missive she had 
received was from her nephew, and not from Miss 
March. She did not wish to have a letter from 
Junius. She knew, or rather very much feared, 
that it would contain news which would be bad 
news to her, and although she was sure that such 


390 


The Late Mi^s Null, 


news would come to her sooner or later, she was 
very much averse to receiving it. 

His letter to her merely touched upon the points 
of Mrs Null, and his cousin’s engagement to Mr 
Croft; but it was almost entirely filled with the an¬ 
nouncement, and most earnest defence,.of his own 
engagement to Roberta March. He said a great deal 
upon this subject, and he said it well. But it is 
doubtful if his fervid, and often affectionate, expres¬ 
sions made much impression upon his aunt. Noth¬ 
ing could make the old lady like this engagement, 
but she had made up her mind that he might do as 
he pleased, and it didn’t matter what he said about 
it; he had done it, and there was an end of it. 

But there was one thing that did matter: That un¬ 
principled and iniquitous old man Brandon had had 
his own way at last ; and she and her way had been 
set aside. This was the last of a series of injuries 
to her and her family with which she charged Mr 
Brandon and his family ; but it was the crowning 
wrong. The injury itself she did not so much de¬ 
plore, as that the injurer would profit by it. Arrested 
in her course of raging passion by a sudden flood of 
warm and irresistible emotion, she had resigned, 
as impetuously as she had taken them up, her pur¬ 
poses of vengeance, and consequently, her plans for 
her nephew and niece. But she was a keen-minded, 
as well as passionate old woman, and when she had 
considered the altered state of affairs, she was able 
to see in it advantages as well as disappointment 
and defeat. From what she had learned of Law- 


The Late Mi's Null. 


391 


rence Croft’s circumstances and position, and she 
had made a good many inquiries on this subject of 
Roberta March, he was certainly a good match foi 
Annie ; and, although she hated to have anything to 
do with Midbranch, it could not be a bad thing for 
Junius to be master of that large estate, and that 
Mr Brandon had repeatedly declared he would be, if 
he married Roberta. Thus, in the midst of these 
reverses, there was something to comfort her, and 
reconcile her to them. But there was no balm for 
the wound caused by Mr Brandon’s success and her 
failure. 

With the letter of Junius open in her hand, she 
sat, for a long time, in bitter meditation. At length 
a light gradually spread itself over her gloomy 
countenance. Her eyes sparkled; she sat up 
straight in her chair, and a broad smile changed the 
course of the wrinkles on her cheeks. She arose to 
her feet; she gave her head a quick jerk of affirma¬ 
tion ; she clapped one hand upon the other; and 
she said aloud : “ I will bless, not curse ! ” 

And with that she went happy to bed. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


On the following Monday, Lawrence announced 
that his ankle was now quite well enough for him to 
^ go to New York, where his affairs required his 
presence. Neither he, nor the late Mrs Null, re¬ 
garded this parting with any satisfaction, but their 
very natural regrets at the necessary termination of 
these happy autumn days were a good deal tem¬ 
pered by the fact that Lawrence intended to return 
in a few weeks, and that then the final arrange¬ 
ments would be made for their marriage. It was 
not easy to decide what these arrangements would 
be, for in spite of the many wrongnesses of the old 
lady’s head and heart, Annie had conceived a good 
deal of affection for her aunt, and felt a strong dis¬ 
inclination to abandon her to her lonely life, which 
would be more lonely than before, now that Junius 
was to be married. On the other hand, Lawrence, 
although he had discovered some estimable points 
in the very peculiar character of Mrs Keswick, had 
no intention of living in the same house with her. 
This whole matter, therefore, was left in abeyance 
until the lovers should meet again, some time in 
December. 

Lawrence and Annie had desired very much that 
Junius should visit them before Mr. Croft’s depart- 


The Late Mrs Null, 


393 


ure for the North, for they both had a high esteem 
for him, and both felt a desire that he should be as 
well satisfied with their matrimonial project as they 
were with his. But they need not have expected 
him. Junius had conceived a dislike for Mr Croft, 
which was based in great part upon disapprobation 
of what he himself had done in connection with that 
gentleman; and this manner of dislike is not easily 
set aside. The time would come when he would 
take Lawrence Croft and Annie by the hand, and 
honestly congratulate them, but for that time they 
must wait. 

Lawrence departed in the afternoon; and the 
next day Mrs Keswick set about that general reno¬ 
vation and rearrangement of her establishment 
which many good housewives consider necessary at 
certain epochs, such as the departure of guests, the 
coming in of spring, or the advent of winter. 
These arrangements occupied two days, and on the 
evening that they were finished to her satisfaction, 
the old lady informed her niece, that early the next 
morning, she was going to start for Midbranch, and 
that it was possible, nay, quite probable, that she 
would stay there over a night. I might go and 
come back the same day,'* she said, “but thirty 
miles a^ day is too much for Billy, and besides, I am 
not sure I could get through what I have to do, if I 
do not stay over. I would take you with me but 
this is not to be a mere visit; I have important 
things to attend to, and you w^ould be in the way. 
You got along so well without me when you first 


394 


The Late Mrs NuCL 


came here that I have no doubt you will do very 
well for one night. I shall drive myself, and take 
Plez along with me, and leave Uncle Isham and 
Letty to take care of you.” 

Under ordinary circumstances Annie would have 
been delighted to go to Midbranch, a place she 
had never seen, and of which she had heard so much, 
but she had no present desire to see Roberta March, 
and said so ; further remarking that she was very 
willing to stay by herself for a night. She hoped 
much that her aunt would proceed with the con¬ 
versation, and tell her why she had determined upon 
such an extraordinary thing as a visit to Midbranch ; 
where she knew the old lady had not been for many, 
many years. But Mrs Keswick had nothing further 
to say upon this subject, and began to talk of other 
matters. 

After a very early breakfast next morning, Mrs 
Keswick set out upon her journey, driving the sorrel 
horse with much steadiness, intermingled with sever¬ 
ity whenever he allowed himself to drop out of his 
usual jogging pace. Plez sat in the back part of the 
spring-wagon, and whenever the old lady saw an un¬ 
usually large stone lying in the track of the road, 
she would stop, and make him get out and throw it 
to one side. 

“ I believe,” she said, on one of these occasions, 
“ that a thousand men in buggies might pass along 
this road thrice a day for a year, and never think of 
stopping to throw that rock out of the way of peo¬ 
ple’s wheels. They would steer around it every time, 


The Late Mrs NuLL 


395 

or bump over it, but such a thing as moving it would 
never enter their heads.” 

The morning was somewhat cool, but fine, and the 
smile which occasionally flitted over the corrugated 
countenance of Mrs Keswick seemed to indicate that 
she was in a pleasant state of mind, which might have 
been occasioned by the fine weather and the good 
condition of the roads, or by cheerful anticipations 
connected with her visit. 

It was not very long after noonday that, with a 
stifled remark of disapprobation upon her lips, she 
drew" up at the foot of the broad flight of steps by 
which one crossed the fence into the Midbranch 
yard. Giving Billy into the charge of Plez, with di¬ 
rections to take him round to the stables and tell 
somebody to put him up and feed him, she mounted 
the steps, and stopped for a minute or so on the 
broad platform at the top ; looking about her as she 
stood. Everything, the house, the yard, the row of 
elms along the fence, the wide-spreading fields, and 
the farm buildings and cabins, some of which she 
could see around the end of the house, were all on a 
scale so much larger and more imposing than those 
of her own little estate that, although nothing had 
changed for the better since the days when she was 
familiar with Midbranch, she was struck with the 
general superiority of the Brandon possessions to 
her own. Her eyes twinkled, and she smiled ; but 
there did not appear to be anything envious about 
her. 

She presented a rather remarkable figure as she 


39 ^ 


The Late Mrs Null, 


stood in this conspicuous position. Annie had 
insisted, when she was helping her aunt to array her¬ 
self for the journey, that she should wear a bonnet 
which for many years had been her head-gear on 
Sundays and important occasions, but to this the 
old lady positively objected. She was not going on 
a mere visit of state or ceremony ; her visit at Mid¬ 
branch would require her whole attention, and she 
did not wish to distract her mind by wondering 
whether her bonnet was straight on her head or not, 
and she was so unaccustomed to the feel of it that 
she would never know if it got turned hind part 
foremost. She could never be at her ease, nor say 
freely what she wished to say, if she were dressed in 
clothes to which she was not accustomed. She was 
perfectly accustomed to her sun-bonnet, and she in¬ 
tended to wear that. Of course she carried her pur¬ 
ple umbrella, and she wore a plain calico dress, blue 
spotted with white, which was very narrow and 
short in the skirt, barely touching the tops of her 
shoes, the stoutest and most serviceable that could 
be procured in the store at Howdett’s. She covered 
her shoulders with a small red shawl which, much to 
Annie’s surprise, she fastened with a large and some¬ 
what tarnished silver brooch, an ornament her niece 
had never before seen. Attired thus, she certainly 
would have attracted attention, had there been any 
one there to see, but the yard was empty, and the 
house door closed. She descended the steps, crossed 
the yard with what might be termed a buoyant gait, 
and, mounting the porch, knocked on the door with 


The Late Mrs Null, 


397 


the handle of her umbrella. After some delay a 
colored woman appeared, and as soon as the door 
was opened, Mrs Keswick walked in. 

“ Where is your master?” said she, forgetting all 
about the Emancipation Act. 

“ Mahs’ Robert is in the libery,” said the woman. 

“ And where are Miss Roberta March and Master 
Junius Keswick ? ” 

“ Miss Rob went Norf day ’fore yestiddy,” was the 
answer, “ an’ Mahs’ Junius done gone ’long to ’scort 
her. Who shall I tell Mahs’ Robert is come ?” 

“ There is no need to tell him who I am,” said Mrs 
Keswick. “Just take me in to him. That’s all you 
have to do.” 

A good deal doubtful of the propriety of this pro¬ 
ceeding, but more doubtful of the propriety of oppos¬ 
ing the wishes of such a determined-looking visitor, 
the woman stepped to the back part of the hall, and 
opened the door. The moment she did so, Mrs 
Keswick entered, and closed the door behind her. 

Mr Brandon was seated in an arm chair by a table, 
and not very far from a wood fire of a size suited to 
the season. His slippered feet were on a cushioned 
stool; his eye-glasses were carefully adjusted on the 
capacious bridge of his nose; and, intent upon a 
newspaper which had arrived by that morning’s mail, 
he presented the appearance of a very well satisfied 
old gentleman, in very comfortable circumstances. 
But when he turned his head and saw the Widow 
Keswick close the door behind her, every idea of 
satisfaction or comfort seemed to vanish from his 


398 


The Late Mrs Null, 


mind. He dropped the paper; he rose to his feet; 
he took off his eye-glasses ; he turned somewhat red 
in the face ; and he ejaculated : “ What! madam! So 
it is you, Mrs Keswick ? ” 

The old lady did not immediately answer. Her 
head dropped a little on one side, a broad smile be- 
wrinkled the lower part of her well-worn visage, and 
with her eyes half-closed, behind her heavy spectacles, 
she held out both her hands, the purple umbrella 
in one of them, and exclaimed in a voice of happy 
fervor : “ Robert ! I am yours ! ” 

Mr Brandon, recovered from his first surprise, had 
made a step forward to go round the table and greet 
his visitor ; but at these words he stopped as if he 
had been shot. Perception, understanding, and even 
animation, seemed to have left him as he vacantly 
stared at the elderly female with purple sun-bonnet 
and umbrella, blue calico gown, red shawl and coarse 
boots, who held out her arms towards him, and who 
gazed upon him with an air of tender, though de¬ 
crepit, fondness. 

“ Don’t you understand me, Robert ?” she con¬ 
tinued. “ Don’t you remember the day, many a 
good long year ago, it is true, when we walked 
together down there by the branch, and you asked 
me to be yours ? I refused you, Robert, and, 
although you went down on your knees in the 
damp grass and besought me to give you my heart, 
I would not do it. But I did not know you then as 
I know you now, Robert, and the words of true love 
which you spoke to me that morning come to me 


The Late Mrs NulL 


399 


now with a sweetness which I was too young and 
trifling to notice then. That heart is yours now, 
Robert. I am yours.” And, with these words, she 
made a step forward. 

At this demonstration Mr Brandon appeared sud¬ 
denly to recover his consciousness and he precip¬ 
itately made two steps backwards, just missing 
tumbling over his footstool into the fireplace. 

“ Madam ! ” he exclaimed, “ what are you talking 
about ? ” 

“ Of the days of our courtship, and your love, 
Robert,” she said. My love did not come then, 
but it is here now. Here now,” she repeated, put¬ 
ting the hand with the umbrella in it on her breast. 

“Madam,” exclaimed the old gentleman, “you 
must be raving crazy ! Those things to which you 
allude, happened nearly half a century ago ; and 
since that you have been married and settled, 
and-” 

“ Robert,” interrupted the Widow Keswick, “ you 
are mistaken. It is not quite forty-five years since 
that morning, and why should hearts like ours allow 
the passage of time or the mere circumstance of what 
might be called an outside marriage, but now ex¬ 
tinct, to come between them ? There is many a 
spring, Robert, which does not show when a man 
first begins to dig, but it will bubble up in time. 
And, Robert, it bubbles now.” And with her head 
bent a little downwards, although her eyes were 
still fixed upon him, she made another step in his 
direction. 



400 


The Late Mrs Null. 


Mr Brandon now backed himself flat against some 
book-shelves in his rear. The perspiration began to 
roll from his face, and his whole form trembled. 
‘‘Mrs Keswick! Madam!” he exclaimed, “You 
will drive me mad !” 

The old lady dropped the end of her umbrella on 
the floor, rested her two hands on the head of it, 
settled herself into an easy position to speak, and, 
with her head thrown back, fixed a steady gaze upon 
the trembling old gentleman. “ Robert,” s.he said, 
“ do not try to crush emotions which always were a 
credit to you, although in those days gone by I didn’t 
tell you so. Your hair was black then, Robert, and 
you looked taller, for you hadn’t a stoop, and your face 
was very smooth, and so was mine, and I remember 
I had on a white dress v/ith a broad ribbon around 
the waist, and neither of us wore specs. What you 
said to me was very fresh and sweet, Robert, and it 
all comes to me now as it never came before. You 
have never loved another, Robert, and you don’t 
know how happy it makes me to think that, and to 
know that I can come to you and find you the same 
true and constant lover that you were when, forty- 
five years ago, you went down on your knees to me 
by the branch. We can’t stifle those feelings of by¬ 
gone days wl’ich well up in our bosoms, Robert. 
After all these years I have learned what a prize 
your true love is, and I return it. I am yours.” 

At this Mr Brandon opened his mouth with a 
spasmodic gasp, but no word came from him. He 
looked to the right and left, and then made a lunge 


The Late Mrs Null. 


401 


to one side, as if he would run around the old lady 
and gain the door. But Mrs Keswick was too quick 
for him. With two sudden springs she reached the 
door and put her back against it. 

“ Don’t leave me, Robert,” she said, I have not 
told you all. Don’t you remember this breastpin ? ” 
unfastening the large silver brooch from her shawl 
and holding it out to him. “You gave it to me, 
Robert; there were almost tears of joy in your eyes 
on the first day I wore it, although I was careful to 
let you know it meant nothing. Where are those 
tears to-day, Robert ? It means something now. I 
have kept it all these years, although in the life¬ 
time of Mr Keswick it was never cleaned, and I 
wore it to-day, Robert, that your eyes might rest 
upon it once again, and that you might speak to 
me the words you spoke to me the day after I let 
you pin it on my white neckerchief. You waited 
then, Robert, a whole day before you spoke, but 
you needn’t wait now. Let your heart speak out, 
dear Robert.” 

But dear Robert appeared to have no power to 
speak, on this or any other subject. He was half 
sitting, half leaning on the corner of a table which 
stood by a window, out of which he gave sudden 
agonized and longing glances, as if, had he strength 
enough, he would raise the sash and leap out. 

The old lady, however, had speech enough for 
two. “ Robert,” she exclaimed, “ how happy may 
we be, yet! If you wish to give up, to a younger 
couple, this spacious mansion, these fine grounds and 
26 


402 


The Late Mrs Null. 


noble elms, and come to my humble home, I shall 
only say to you, ‘ Robert, come! ’ I shall be alone 
there, Robert, and shall welcome you with joy. I 
have nobody now to give anything to. The late 
Mrs Null, by which I mean my niece, will marry a 
man who, if reports don’t lie, is rich enough to make 
her want nothing that I have; and as for Junius, he 
is to have your property, as we all know. So all I 
have is yours, if you choose to come to me, Robert. 
But, if you would rather live here, I will come to 
you, and the young people can board with us until 
your decease ; after that. I’ll board with them. And 
I’m not sure, Robert, but I like the plan of coming 
here best. There are lots of improvements we could 
make on this place, with you to furnish the money, 
and me to advise and direct. The first thing I’d do 
would be to have down those abominable steps over 
the front fence, and put a decent gate in its place ; 
and then we would have a gravelled walk across the 
yard to the porch, wide enough for you _nd me, 
Robert, to walk together arm-in-arm when we would 
go out to look over the plantation, or stroll down to 
that spot on the branch, Robert, where the first 
plightings of our troth began.” 

The words of tender reminiscence, and of fond 
though rather late devotion, with which Mrs Keswick 
had stabbed and gashed the soul of the poor old 
gentleman, had at first deranged his senses, and then 
driven him into a state of abject despair, but the 
practical remarks which succeeded seemed to have a 
more direful effect upon him. The idea of the being 


The Late Mi^s Null. 


403 


with the sun-bonnet and the umbrella entering into 
his life at Midbranch, tearing down the broad steps 
which his honored father had built, cutting a grav¬ 
elled path across the green turf which had been the 
pride of generations, and doing, no man could say 
what else, of advice and direction, seemed to strike 
a chill of terror into his very bones. 

The quick perception of Mrs Keswick told her 
that it was time to terminate the interview. “ I will 
not say anything more to you now, Robert,” she 
said. “ Of course you have been surprised at my 
coming to you to-day, and accepting your offer of 
marriage, and you must have time to quiet your 
mind, and think it over. I don’t doubt your affec¬ 
tion, Robert, and I don’t want to hurry you. I am 
going to stay here to-night, so that we can have 
plenty of time to settle everything comfortably. I’ll 
go now and get one of the servants to show me to a 
room where I can take off my things. I’ll see you 
again at dinner.” 

And, with a smile of antiquated coyness, she left 
the room. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


Mr Brandon was not a weak man, nor one very 
susceptible to outside influences, but, in the whole 
course of his life, nothing so extraordinarily nerve¬ 
stirring had occurred to him as this visit of old Mrs 
Keswick, endeavoring to appear in the character of 
the young creature he had wooed some forty-five 
years before. For a long time, Mrs Keswick had 
been the enemy of himself and his family; and 
many a bitter onslaught she had made upon him, 
both by letter, and by word of mouth. These he 
had borne with the utmost bravery and coolness, 
and there were times when they even afforded him 
entertainment. But this most astounding attack 
was something against which no man could have 
been prepared ; and Mr Brandon, suddenly pounced 
upon in the midst of his comfortable bachelordom 
by a malevolent sorceress and hurled back to the 
days of his youth, was shown himself kneeling, not 
at the feet of a fair young girl, but before a horrible 
old woman. 

This amazing and startling state of affairs was 
too much for him immediately to comprehend. It 
stunned and bewildered him. Such, indeed, was 
the effect upon him that the first act of his mind, 
when he was left alone, and it began to act, was 


The Late Mrs 


405 


to ask of itself if there were really any grounds 
upon which Mrs Keswick could, with any reason, 
take up her position ? The absolute absurdity of 
her position, however, became more and more evi¬ 
dent, as Mr Brandon’s mind began to straighten 
itself and stand up. And now he grew angry. 
Anger was a passion with which he was not at all 
unfamiliar, and the exercise of it seemed to do him 
good. When he had walked up and down his li¬ 
brary for a quarter of an hour, he felt almost like his 
natural self; and with many nods of his head and 
shakes of his fist, he declared that the old woman 
was crazy, and that he would bundle her home just 
as soon as he could. 

By dinner-time he had cooled down a good deal, 
and he resolved to treat her with the respect due to 
her age and former condition of sanity; but to take 
care that she should not again be alone with him, 
and to arrange that she should return to her home 
that day. 

Mrs Keswick came to the table with a smiling 
face, and wearing a close-fitting white cap, which 
looked like a portion of her night gear, tied under 
her chin with broad, stiff strings. In this she ap¬ 
peared to her host as far more hideous than when 
wearing her sun-bonnet. Mr Brandon had arranged 
that two servants should wait upon the table, so 
that one of them should always be in the room, but 
in his supposition that the presence of a third per¬ 
son would have any effect upon the expression of 
Mrs Keswick’s fond regard, he was mistaken. The 


4o6 


The Late Mrs Null. 


meal had scarcely begun, when she looked around 
the room with wide-open eyes, and exclaimed: 
“ Robert, if we should conclude to remain here, I 
think we will have this room re-papered with some 
light-colored paper. I like a light dining-room. 
This is entirely too dark.” 

The two servants, one of whom was our old 
friend, Peggy, actually stopped short in their duties 
at this remark; and as for Mr Brandon, his appe¬ 
tite immediately left him, to return no more during 
that meal. 

He was obliged to make some answer to this 
speech, and so he briefly remarked that he had no 
desire to alter the appearance of his dining-room, 
and then hastened to change the conversation by 
making some inquiries about that interesting young 
woman, her niece, who, he had been informed, was 
not a married lady, as he had supposed her to be. 

At this intelligence, Peggy dropped two spoons 
and a fork; she had never heard it before. 

“The late Mrs Null,” said Mrs Keswick, “is a 
young woman who likes to cut her clothes after her 
own patterns. They may be becoming to her when 
they are made up, or they may not be. But I am 
inclined to think she has got a pretty good head on 
her shoulders, and perhaps she knows what suits 
her as well as any of us. I can’t say it was easy to 
forgive^the trick she played on me, her own aunt, 
and just the same, in fact, as her mother. But 
Robert,” and as she said this the old lady laid down 
her knife and fork, and looked tenderly at Mr 


The Late Mrs Null, 


407 


Brandon, “ I have determined to forgive everybody, 
and to overlook everything, and I do this as much 
for your sake, dear Robert, as for my own. It 
wouldn’t do for a couple of our age to be keeping 
up grudges against the young people for their ways 
of getting out of marriages or getting into . them. 
We will have my niece and her husband here some¬ 
times, won’t we, Robert ? ” 

Mr Brandon straightened himself and remarked : 
“ Mr Croft, whom I have heard your niece is to 
marry, will be quite welcome here, with his wife.” 
Then, putting his napkin on the table, and pushing 
back his chair, he said: “Now, madam, you must 
excuse me, for I have orders to give to some of my 
people which I had forgotten until this moment. 
But do not let me interfere with your dinner. Pray 
continue your meal.” 

Never before had Mr Brandon been known to 
leave his dinner until he had finished it, and he was 
not at all accustomed to give such a poor reason for 
his actions as the one he gave now, but it was 
simply impossible for him to sit any longer at table, 
and have that old woman talk in that shocking 
manner before the servants. 

“ Robert,” cried Mrs Keswick, as he left the 
room, “ I’ll save some dessert for you, and we’ll eat 
it together.” 

Mr Brandon’s first impulse, when he found him¬ 
self out of the dining-room, was to mount his 
horse and ride away ; but there was no place to 
tfhich he wished to ride; and he was a man who 


4o8 


The Late Mi^s Null. 


was very loath to leave the comforts of his home. 
“ No,” he said. ‘‘ She must go, and not I.” And 
then he went into his parlor, and strode up and 
down. As soon as Mrs Keswick had finished her 
dinner, he would see her there, and speak his mind 
to her. He had determined that he would not 
again be alone with her, but, since the presence of 
others was no restraint whatever upon her, it had 
become absolutely necessary that he should speak 
with her alone. 

It was not long before the Widow Keswick, with a 
brisk, blithe step, entered the parlor. “ I couldn’t 
eat without you, Robert,” she cried, “ and so I 
really haven’t half finished my dinner. Did you 
have to cd‘me in here to speak to your people?” 

Mr Brandon stepped to the door, and closed it. 
“ Madam,” he said, “ it will be impossible for me, 
in the absence of my niece, to entertain you here 
to-night, and so it would be prudent for you to 
start for home as soon as possible, as the days are 
short. It would be too much of a journey for your 
horse to go back again to-day, and your vehicle is an 
open one ; therefore I have ordered my carriage to 
be prepared, and you may trust my driver to take 
you safely home, even if it should be dark before 
you get there. If you desire it, there is a young 
maid-servant here who will go with you.” 

Robert,” said Mrs Keswick, approaching the old 
gentleman and gazing fondly upward at him, “ you 
are so good, and thoughtful, and sweet. But you need 
not put yourself to all that trouble for me. I shall 


The Late Mrs NtilL 409 

stay here to-night, and in your house, dear Robert, I 
can take care of myself a great deal better than any 
lady could take care of me.” 

“ Madam,” exclaimed Mr Brandon, “ I want you 
to stop calling me by my first name. You have no 
right to do so, and I won't stand it.” 

“ Robert,” said the old lady, looking at him with 
an air of tender upbraiding, “ you forget that I am 
yours, now, and forever.” 

Never, since he had arrived at man’s estate, anc 
probably not before, had Mr Brandon spoken in 
improper language to a lady, but now it was all he 
could do to restrain himself from the ejaculation of 
an oath, but he did restrain himself, and only ex¬ 
claimed : “ Confound it, madam, I cannot stand 
this! Why do you come here, to drive me crazy 
with your senseless ravings ? ” 

“ Robert,” said Mrs Keswick, very composedly 
“ I do not wonder that my coming to you and ac¬ 
cepting the proposals which you once so heartily 
made to me, and from which you have never gone 
back, should work a good deal upon your feelings. It 
is quite natural, and I expected it. Therefore don’t 
hesitate about speaking out your mind ; I shall not 
be offended. So that we belong to each other for 
the rest of our days, I don’t mind what you say now^ 
when it is all new and unexpected to you. You and 
I have had many a difference of opinion, Robert, 
and your plans were not my plans. But things 
have turned out as you wished, and you have what 
you have always wanted; and with the other good 


410 


The Late Mrs NtilL 


things, Robert, you can take me.” And, as she 
finished speaking, she held out both hands to her 
companion. 

With a stamp of his foot, and a kick at a chair 
which stood in his way, Mr Brandon precipitately 
left the room, and slammed the door after him; and 
if Peggy had not nimbly sprung to one side, he 
would have stumbled over her, and have had a very 
bad fall for a man of his age. 

It was not ten minutes after this, that, looking out 
of a window, Mrs Keswick saw a saddled horse 
brought into the back yard. She hastened into the 
hall, and found Peggy. “ Run to Mr Brandon,” she 
said, “ and bid him good-bye for me. I am going 
up stairs to get ready to go home, and haven’t 
time to speak to him, myself, before he starts on 
his ride.” 

At the receipt of this message the heart of Mr 
Brandon gave a bound which actually helped him 
to get into the saddle, but he did not hesitate in his 
purpose of instant departure. If he staid, but for a 
moment, she might come out to him, and change 
her mind, so he put spurs to his horse and galloped 
away, merely stopping long enough, as he passed the 
stables, to give orders that the carriage be prepared 
for Mrs Keswick, and taken round to the front. 

As he rode through the cool air of that fine Novem¬ 
ber afternoon, the spirits of Mr Brandon rose. He 
felt a serene satisfaction in assuring himself that, 
although he had been very angry, indeed, with Mrs 
Keswick, on account of her most unheard of and out- 


The Late Mrs Null, 


411 

rageous conduct, yet he had not allowed his indig¬ 
nation to burst out against her in any way of which 
he would afterward be ashamed. Some hasty 
words had escaped him, but they were of no impor¬ 
tance, and, under the circumstances, no one could 
have avoided speaking them. But, when he had ad¬ 
dressed her at any length, he had spoken dispas¬ 
sionately and practically, and she, being at bottom a 
practical woman, had seen the. sense of his advice, 
and had gone home comfortably in his carriage. 
Whether she took her insane fancies home with her, 
or dropped them on the road, it mattered very little 
to him, so that he never saw her again; and he did 
not intend to see her again. If she came again to 
his house, he would leave it and not return until she 
had gone; but he had no reason to suppose that he. 
would be forced into any such exceedingly disagree¬ 
able action as this. He did not believe she would 
ever come back. For, unless she were really crazy— 
and in that case she ought to be put in the lunatic 
asylum—she could not keep up, for any length of 
time, the extraordinary and outrageous delusion 
that he would be willing to renew the feelings that 
he had entertained for her in her youth. 

Mr Brandon rode until nearly dark, for it took a 
good while to free his mind from the effects of the 
excitements and torments of that day. But, when he 
entered the house and took his seat in his library 
chair by the fire, he had almost regained his usual, 
composed and well satisfied frame of mind. 

Then, through the quietly opened door, came Mrs 


412 


The Late Mrs Null. 


Keswick, and stealthily stepping towards him in the 
fitful light of the blazing logs, she put her hand on 
his arm and said: “ Dear Robert, how glad I am to 
see you back! ” 

The next morning, about ten o’clock, Mrs Keswick 
sent her eighteenth or twentieth message to Mr 
Brandon, who had shut himself up in his room since 
a little before supper-time on the previous evening. 
The message was sent by Peggy, and she was in¬ 
structed to shout it outside of her master’s door until 
he took notice of it. Its purport was that it was 
necessary that Mrs Keswick should go home to-day, 
and that her horse was harnessed and she was now 
ready to go, but that she could not think of leaving 
until she had seen Mr Brandon again. She would 
therefore wait until he was ready to come down. 

Mr Brandon looked out of the window and saw 
the spring-wagon at the outside of the broad stile, 
with Plez standing at the sorrel’s head. He re¬ 
membered that the venerable demon had said, at the 
first, that she intended to stay but one night, and 
he could but believe that she was now really going. 
Knowing her as he did, however, he was very well 
aware that if she had said she would not leave until 
she had seen him, she would stay in his house for a 
year,unless he sooner went down to her; therefore 
he opened his door, and slowly and feebly descended 
the stairs. 

“My dear, dear Robert!” exclaimed Mrs Kes¬ 
wick, totally regardless of the fact that Peggy was 
standing at the front door with her valise in her 


The Late Mrs Null. 


413 


hand, and that there was another servant in the 
hall, “ how pale, and haggard, and worn you look ! 
You must be quite unwell, and I don’t know but 
that I ought to stay here and take care of you.” 

At these words a look of agony passed over the 
old man’s face, but he said nothing. 

“ But I am afraid I cannot stay any longer 
this time,” continued the Widow Keswick, “ for my 
niece would not know what had become of me, and 
there are things at home that I must attend to ; but 
I will come again. Don’t think I intend to desert 
you, dear Robert. You shall see me soon again. 
But while I am gone,” she said, turning to the two 
servants, “ I want you maids to take good care of 
your master. You must do it for his sake, for he 
has always been kind to you, but I also want you to 
do it for my sake. Don’t you forget that. And 
now, dear Robert, good-bye.” As she spoke, she 
extended her hand towards the old gentleman. . 

Without a word, but with a good deal of apparent 
reluctance, he took the long, bony hand in his, and 
probably, would have instantly dropped it again, had 
not Mrs Keswick given him a most hearty clutch, 
and a vigorous and long-continued shake. 

“ It is hard, dear Robert,” she said, “ for us to part, 
with nothing but a hand-shake, but there are people 
about, and this will have to do.” And then, after 
urging him to take good care of his health, so valu¬ 
able to them both, and assuring him that he would 
soon see her again, she gave his hand a final shake, 
and left him. Accompanied by Peggy, she went out 


414 


The Late Mrs NulL 


to the spring-wagon and clambered into it. It al¬ 
most surpasses belief that Mr Brandon, a Virginia 
gentleman of the old school, should have stood in 
his hall, and have seen an old lady leave his house 
and get into a vehicle, without accompanying and 
assisting her; but such was the case on this occa¬ 
sion. He seemed to have forgotten his traditions, 
and to have lost his impulses. He simply stood 
where the Widow Keswick had left him, and gazed 
at her. 

When she was seated, and ready to start, the old 
lady turned towards him, called out to him in a 
cheery voice: “ Good-bye, Robert! ” and kissed her 
hand to him. 

Mrs Keswick slowly drove away, and Mr Brandon 
stood at his hall door, gazing after her until she was 
entirely out of sight. Then he ejaculated : “ The 
Devil’s daughter! ” and went into his library. 

“ I wonders,” said Peggy when she returned to the 
kitchen, “ how you all’s gwine to like habin dat ole 
Miss Keswick libin h’yar as you all’s mistiss.” 

“Who’s gwine to hab her?” growled Aunt Judy. 

“ You all is,” sturdily retorted Peggy. “ Dar ain’t 
no use tryin’ to git out ob dat. Dat old Miss Kes¬ 
wick done gone an’ kunjered Mahs’ Robert, an’ dey’s 
boun’ to git mar’ed. I done heered all ’bout it, an’ 
she’s cornin’ h’yar to lib wid Mahs’ Robert. But dat 
don’ make no dif’rence to me. I’s gwine to lib wid 
Mahs’ Junius an’ Miss Rob in New York, I is. But 
I’s mighty sorry for you all.” 

“You Peggy,” shouted the irate Aunt Judy, “ shut 


The Late Mrs Null. 


415 


up wid your fool talk! When Mahs’ Robert marry 
dat ole jimpsun weed, de angel Gabr’el blow his hohn, 
shuh.” 

Slowly driving along the road to her home, the 
Widow Keswick gazed cheerfully at the blue sky 
above her, and the pleasant autumn scenery around 
her ; sniffed the fine fresh air, delicately scented with 
the odor of falling leaves; and settling’herself into -a 
more comfortable position on her seat, she compla¬ 
cently said to herself: “ Well, I reckon the old scape¬ 
grace has got his money’s worth this time ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


There were two reasons why Peggy could not go 
to live with Mahs* Junius and Miss Rob” in New 
York. In the first place, this couple had no inten¬ 
tion of setting up an establishment in that city; 
and secondly, Peggy, as Roberta well knew, was not 
adapted by nature to be her maid, or the maid of 
any one else. Peggy’s true vocation in life was to 
throw her far-away gaze into futurity, and, as far as in 
her lay, to adapt present circumstances to what she 
supposed was going to happen. It would have de¬ 
lighted her soul if she could have been the adept in 
conjuring, which she firmly believed the Widow Kes¬ 
wick to be; but, as she possessed no such gift, she 
made up the deficiency, as well as she could, by mix¬ 
ing up her mind, her soul, and her desires, into a sort 
of witch’s hodge-podge, which she thrust as a spell 
into the affairs of other people. Twice had the de¬ 
vices of this stupid-looking wooden peg of a negro 
girl stopped Lawrence Croft in the path he was fol¬ 
lowing in his pursuit of Roberta March. If Law¬ 
rence had known, at the time, what Peggy was doing, 
he would have considered her an unmitigated little 
demon ; but afterward, if he could have known of it, 
he would have thought her a very unprepossessing 
and conscienceless guardian angel. 


The Late Mrs Null. 


417 

As it was, he knew not what she had done, and 
never considered her at all. 

Junius Keswick took much more delight in farm¬ 
ing than he did in the practice of the law, and it was 
only because, he had felt himself obliged to do so, 
that he had adopted the legal profession. To be a 
farmer, one must have a farm; but a lawyer can 
frequently make a living from the lands of other 
men. He was very willing, therefore, to agree to 
the plan which, for years, had been Mr Brandon’s 
most cherished scheme ; that he and Roberta should 
make their home at Midbranch, and that he should 
take charge of the estate, which would be his wife’s 
property after the old gentleman’s decease. Roberta 
was as fond of the country as was Junius, but she 
was also a city woman ; and it was arranged that the 
couple should spend a portion of each winter in New 
York, at the house of Mr March. 

Junius, and Roberta, as well as her father, hoped 
very much that they might be able to induce Mr 
Brandon to come to New York to attend the wed¬ 
ding, which was to take place the middle of January ; 
but. they were not confident of success, for they 
knew the old gentleman disliked very much to travel, 
especially in winter. Three very pressing letters 
were therefore written to Mr Brandon; and the 
writers we!*e much surprised to receive, in a short 
time, a collective answer, in which he stated that he 
would not only be present at the wedding, but that 
he thought of spending several months in New York. 
It would be very lonely at Midbranch, he wrote, 
27 


4i8 


The Late Mrs Null. 


without Roberta—though why it should be more 
so this year, than during preceding winters, he did 
not explain—and he felt a desire to see the changes 
that had taken place in the metropolis since he had 
visited it, years ago. 

They would not have been so much surprised had 
they known that Mr Brandon did not feel himself 
safe in his own home, by night or by day. Frequently 
had he gazed out of a window at the point in the road 
on which the first sight of an approaching spring- 
wagon could have been caught ; and had said to 
himself : “If only Roberta were here, that old hag 
would not dare to speak a word to me! I don’t 
want to go away, but, by George ! I don’t see how 
I can stay here without Rob.” 

There was a short, very black, and somewhat bow- 
legged negro rnan on the place, named Israel Bona¬ 
parte, who lived in a little cabin by himself, and was 
noted for his unsocial disposition, and his taciturn¬ 
ity. To him Mr Brandon went one day, and said: 
“ Israel, I want you to go to work on the fence rows 
on my side of the road to Howlett’s. Grub up 
the bushes, clear out the vines and weeds, and see 
that the rails and posts are all in order. That will 
be a job that I expect will last you until the roads 
begin to get heavy. And, by the way, Israel, while 
you are at work, I want you to keep a lookout for 
any visitors that may turn into our road, especially 
if they happen to be ladies. Now that Miss Rob is 
away, I am very particular about knowing, before¬ 
hand, when ladieS are coming to visit me ; and when 


The Late Mrs Null. 


419 


you see any wagon or carriage turn in, I want you to 
make a short cut across the fields, and let me know 
it, and I will give you a quarter of a dollar every 
time you do so.” This was a very pleasant job of 
work for the meditative Israel. He was not very 
fond of grubbing, but he earned the greater part of 
• his ten dollars a month and rations, by sitting on the 
fence, smoking a corn-cob pipe, and attending to the 
second division of the work which his employer had 
set him to do. 

Lawrence Croft was in New York at this time, a very 
busy man, arranging his affairs in that city, so that 
they would not need his personal attention for some 
time to come; he sub-let, for the remainder of his 
lease, the suite of bachelor apartments he had occu¬ 
pied, and he stored his furniture and books. One 
might have imagined that he was taking in all possi¬ 
ble sails; close reefing the others; battening down 
the hatches; and preparing to run before a storm ; 
and yet his demeanor did not indicate that he ex¬ 
pected any violent commotion of the elements. On 
the contrary, his friends and acquaintances thought 
him particularly blithe and gay. He told them he 
was going to be married. 

“To that Virginia lady, I suppose,” said one. “ I 
remember her very well; and consider you for¬ 
tunate.” 

“ I don’t think you ever met her,” said Mr 
Croft. “She is a Miss Peyton, from King Thomas 
County.” 

“ Ah ! ” remarked his interlocutor. 


420 


The Late Mrs Null, 


Lawrence walked to the window of the cluL 
room, and stood there, slowly puffing. his cigar. 
Had anybody met this one? he thought. He knew 
she had seen but little company during her father’s 
life, but was it likely that any of his acquaintances 
had had business at Candy’s Information Shop? As 
this idea came into his mind, there seemed to be 
something unpleasant in the taste of his cigar, and 
he threw it into the fire. A few turns, however, up 
and down the now almost deserted rooms, restored 
his tone; he lighted another cigar, and now there 
came up before him a vision of the girl who, from 
loyalty to her dead father, preferred to sit all day 
behind Candy’s money desk rather than go to a 
relative who had not been his friend. And then he 
saw the young girl who took up so courageously the 
cause of one of her own blood—the boy cousin of 
her childhood; and with a lover’s pride, Lawrence 
thought of the dash, the spirit, and the bravery 
with which she had done it. 

“ By George ! ” he said to himself, his eyes spark¬ 
ling, and his step quickening, “ she has more in her 
than all the rest of them put together!” 

Who were included in “ the rest of them,” Law¬ 
rence was not prepared just then to say, but the 
expression was intended to have a very wide range. 

It was about the middle of December, when Law¬ 
rence paid another visit to Mrs Keswick’s house. 
The day was cold, but clear, and as he drove up to 
the outer gate, he saw the old lady returning from 
a walk to Hewlett’s. She stepped along briskly, 


The Late Mrs NulL 


421 

and was in a very good humor, for she had just 
posted a carefully concocted letter to Mr Brandon, 
in which she had expatiated, in her peculiar style, on 
the pleasure which she expected from an early visit 
to Midbranch. She had not the slightest idea 
of going there, at present, but she thought it 
♦ quite time to freshen up the old gentleman’s an¬ 
ticipations. 

Descending from his carriage to meet her, Law¬ 
rence was very warmly greeted, and the two went 
up to the house together. 

“ I expect the late Mrs Null will be very glad to 
see you,” said Mrs Keswick. “ I think she has 
burned up all her widow’s weeds.” 

“ You should be very much obliged to your 
niece,” said Mr Croft, “ for so delicately ridding 
you of that dreadful fertilizer man.” 

‘‘Humph!” said the old lady. “She cheated 
me out of the pleasure of telling him what I 
thought of him, and I shall never forgive her for 
that.” 

As Lawrence and Annie sat together in the par¬ 
lor that evening, he told her what he had been doing 
in New York, and this brought to her lips a ques¬ 
tion, which she was very anxious to have answered. 
She knew that Lawrence was rich; that his methods 
of life and thought made him a man of the cities; 
and she felt quite certain that the position to which 
he would conduct her was that of the mistress of a 
handsome town-house, and the wife of a man of 
society. She liked handsome town-houses, and she 


422 


The Late Mi's Null. 


was sure she would like society; but it would all be 
very new and strange to her, and, although she was 
a brave girl at heart, she shrank from making such a 
plunge as this. 

“How are we going to live?” repeated Law¬ 
rence. “ That, of course, is to be as you shall choose, 
but I have a plan to propose to you, and I want 
very much to hear what you think about it. And 
the plan is, that we shall not live anywhere for a year 
or two, but wander, fancy free, over as much of the 
world as pleases us; and then decide where we shall 
settle down, and how we shall like to do it.” 

If Annie’s answer had been expressed in words, it 
might have been given here. It may be said, how¬ 
ever, that it was very quick, very affirmative, and, 
in more ways than one, highly satisfactory to Law¬ 
rence. 

“Is it London, and a landlady, and tea?” she 
presently asked. 

“ Yes, it is that,” he said. 

“ Is it the shops on the Boulevards?” 

“ Yes,” said Lawrence. 

“ And the Appian Way ? And the Island of Capri? 
And snow mountains in the distance?” she asked. 

“ In their turn, most certainly,” said her lover, 
“and it shall be the midnight sun, and the Nile, if 
you like.” 

“ Freddy,” exclaimed the late Mrs Null, “ I thank 
thee for what thou hast given me !” And she clasped 
the hand of Lawrence in both her own. 


CHAPTER XXXIL 


The marriage of Junius Keswick and Roberta 
March was appointed for the fifteenth of January, 
and Mr Brandon had arranged to be in New York a 
few days before the event. He intended, however, 
to leave Midbranch soon after the first of the year, 
and to spend a week with some of his friends in 
Richmond. 

It was on the afternoon of New Year’s Day, and 
Mr Brandon was sitting in his library with Colonel 
Pinckney Macon, an elderly gentleman of social 
habits and genial temper, whom Mr Brandon had 
invited to Midbranch to spend the holidays, and 
who was afterwards to be his travelling companion 
as far as Richmond. The two had had a very good 
dinner, and were now sitting before the fire smoking 
their pipes, and paying occasional attention to two 
tumblers of egg-nogg, which stood on a small table 
between them. They were telling anecdotes of 
olden times, and were in very good humor indeed, 
when a servant came in with a note, which had just 
been brought for Mr Brandon. The old gentleman 
took the missive, and put on his eye-glasses, but the 
moment he read the address, he let his hand fall on 
his knee, and gave vent to an angry ejaculation. 

It’s from that rabid old witch, the Widow Kes- 


424 


The Late Mrs Null. 


wick! ” he exclaimed, “ IVe a great mind‘to throw 
it into the fire without reading it.” 

“ Don’t do that,” cried Colonel Macon. “ It is a 
New Year present she is sending you. Read it, sir, 
read it by all means.” 

Mr Brandon had given his friend an account of 
his unexampled and astounding persecutions by the 
Widow Keswick, and the old colonel had been 
much interested thereby ; and it would have greatly 
grieved his soul not to become acquainted with this 
new feature of the affair. “ Read it, sir,” he cried; 
“ I would like to know what sort of New Year con¬ 
gratulations she offers you.” 

“ Congratulations indeed ! ” said Mr Brandon; 
“ you needn’t expect anything of that kind.” But 
he opened the note; and, turning, so that he could 
get a good light upon it, began to read aloud, as 
follows: 

“My Dearest Robert,” 

“ Confound it, sir,” exclaimed the reader, did 
you ever hear of such a piece of impertinence as 
that?” 

Colonel Pinckney Macon leaned back in his chair, 
and laughed aloud. “ It is impertinent,” he cried, 
“ but it’s confoundedly jolly ! Go on, sir. Go on, I 
beg of you.” 

Mr Brandon continued : 

“ It is not for me to suggest anything of the kind, but I write this 
note simply to ask you what you would think of a triple wedding ? 
There would certainly be something very touching about it, and it 
would be very satisfactory and comforting, I am sure, to our nieces 


The Late Mrs NulL 


425 


and their husbands to know that they were not leaving either of us to 
a lonely life. Would we not make three hajJpy pairs, dear Robert? 
Remember, I do not propose this, I only lay it before your kindly 
and affectionate heart. 

“ Your own 

“ Martha Ann Keswick.” 

Colonel Macon, who, with much difficulty and 
redness of face, had restrained himself during the 
reading of this note, now burst into a shout of 
laughter, while Mr Brandon sprang to his feet, and 
crumpling the note in his hand, threw it into the 
fire ; and then, turning around, he exclaimed: 

Did the world ever hear anything like that! Triple 
wedding, indeed ! Does the pestiferous old shtfew 
imagine that anything in this world would induce 
me to marry her ? ’’ 

“Why, my dear sir,” cried Colonel Macon, “of 
course she don’t. I know the Widow Keswick as 
well as you do. She wouldn’t marry you to save 
your soul, sir. All she wants to do is to worry and 
persecute you, and to torment your senses out of 
you, in revenge for your having got the better of 
her. Now, take my advice, sir, and don’t let her 
do it. 

“ I’d like to know how I am going to hinder her,” 
said Mr Brandon. 

“Hinder her! ” exclaimed Colonel Macon. “No¬ 
thing easier in this world, sir ! Just you turn right 
square round, and face her, sir; and you’ll see 
that she’ll stop short, sir; and, what’s more, she’ll 
run, sir! ” 

“How am I to face her?” asked Mr Brandon. 


426 


The Late Mrs Null, 


“ I have faced her, and I assure you, sir, she didn’t 
run.” 

“ That was because you did not go to work in the 
right way,” said the colonel. “Now, if I were in 
your place, sir, this is what I would do. I’d turn on 
her and Td scare her out of all the wits she has lefta 
I’d say to her : ‘ Madam, I think your proposition is 
an excellent one. I am ready to marry you to-day, 
or, at the very latest, to-morrow morning. I’ll come 
to your house, and bring a clergyman, and some of 
my friends. Don’t let there be the least delay, for 
I desire to start immediately for New York, and. to 
take you with me.’ Now, sir, a note like that would 
frighten that old woman so that she would leave her 
house, and wouldn’t come back for six weeks; and 
the letter you have just burned would be the last 
attack she would make on you. Now, sir, that is 
what I would do if I were in your place.” 

Mr Brandon sat down, drained his tumbler of egg- 
nogg, and began to think of what his friend had said. 
And, as he thought of it, the conviction forced itself 
upon him that this idea of Colonel Macon’s was a 
good one; in fact, a splendid one. Now that he 
came to look upon the matter more clearly than he 
had done before, he saw that this persecution on the 
part of the Widow Keswick was not only base, but 
cowardly. He had been entirely too yielding, had 
given way too much. Yes, he would face her ! By 
George! that was a royal idea! He would turn 
round, and make a dash at her, and scare her out of 
her five senses. 




The Late Mrs Null, ' 427 

Pens, ink, and paper were brought out; more egg- 
nogg was ordered; and Mr Brandon, aided and abet¬ 
ted by Colonel Macon, wrote a letter to Mrs Kes¬ 
wick. 

This letter took a long time to write, and was very 
carefully constructed. With outstretched hands, Mr 
Brandon met the old lady on the very threshold 
of her proposition. He stated that nothing would 
please him better than an immediate wedding, and 
that he would have proposed it himself had he not 
feared that the lady would consider him too impor¬ 
tunate. (This expression was suggested by Colonel 
Macon.) In order that they might lose no time in 
making themselves happy, Mr Brandon proposed 
that the marriage should take place in a week, and 
that the ceremony should be performed in Rich¬ 
mond. (The colonel wished him to say that he 
would immediately go to her house for the purpose, 
but Mr Brandon would not consent to write this. 
He was afraid that the widow would sit at her front 
door with a shot-gun and wait for him, and that 
some damage might thereby come to an unwary 
neighbor.) Each of them had many old friends in 
Richmond, and it would be very pleasant to be mar¬ 
ried there. He intended to start for that city in a 
day or two, and he would be rejoiced to meet her at 
eleven o’clock on the morning of the fifth instant, in 
the corridor, or covered bridge, connecting the Ex¬ 
change and Ballard hotels, and there arrange all the 
details for an immediate marriage. The letter closed 
with an earnest hope that she would accede to this 


428 


The Late Mrs Null, 


proposed plan, which would so soon make them the 
happiest couple upon earth; and was signed “Your 
devoted Robert.’’ 

“ By which I mean,” said Mr Brandon, “ that I am 
devoted to her destruction.” 

The letter was read over by Colonel Macon, and 
highly approved by him. “If you had met that 
woman, sir, when she first came to you,” he said to 
Mr Brandon, “ with the spirit that is shown in this 
letter, you would have put a shiver through her, sir, 
that would have shaken the bones out of her um¬ 
brella, and she would have cut and run, sir, before 
you knew it.” 

The messenger from Howlett’s was kept at Mid¬ 
branch all night, and the next morning he was sent 
back with Mr Brandon’s note. Two days afterward 
Colonel Macon and Mr Brandon started for Rich¬ 
mond, and in the course of a few hours, they were 
comfortably sipping their “ peach and honey ” at 
the Exchange and Ballard’s. 

The next day was most enjoyably spent with a 
number of old friends; and in reminiscences of the 
past war, and in discussions of the coming political 
campaign, Mr Brandon had thrown off every sign 
of the annoyance and persecution to which he had 
lately been subjected. 

“ By George, sir ! ” said Colonel Macon to him the 
next morning, “ do you know that you are a most 
untrustworthy and perfidious man?” 

“Sir!” exclaimed Mr Brandon, “what do you 
mean? ” 


The Late Mrs NulL 


429 

I mean,” replied Colonel Pinckney Macon, with 
much dignity, “ that you promised at eleven o’clock 
to-day to meet a lady in the corridor connecting 
these two hotels. It wants three minutes of that 
time now, sir, and here you are reading the 
‘ Dispatch ’ as if you nev6r made a promise in your 
life.” 

I declare,” said Mr Brandon, rising, “ my conduct 
is indefensible, but I am going to my room, and, on 
my way, will keep my part of the contract.” 

“ I will go with you,” said the colonel. 

Together they mounted the stairs, and approached 
the corridor; and, as they opened its glass doors, 
they saw, sitting in a chair on one side of the pas¬ 
sage, the Widow Keswick. 

If Mr Brandon had not been caught by his friend 
he would have fallen over baclcwards. Regaining 
an upright position, he made a frantic turn, as if he 
would fly, but he was not quick enough; Mrs Kes¬ 
wick had him by the arm. 

“Robert!” she exclaimed. “I knew how true 
and faithful you would be. It has just struck eleven. 
How do you do. Colonel Macon ? ” And she ex¬ 
tended her hand. 

There was no one in the corridor at the time but 
these three, but the place was much used as a passage¬ 
way, and Colonel Macon, who was very pale, but still 
retained his presence of mind, knew well, that if any 
one were to come along at this moment, it would 
be decidedly unpleasant, not only for his friend, 
but himself. “ I am glad to meet you again, Mrs 


430 


The Late Mrs NulL 


Keswick,” he said. “ Let us go into one of the 
parlors. It will be more comfortable.” 

‘‘ How kind,” murmured Mrs Keswick, as sh^* 
clung to the arm of Mr Brandon, “ for you to bring 
our good friend. Colonel Macon.” 

They went into a parlor, which was empty, and 
where they were not likely to be disturbed. Mr 
Brandon walked there without saying a word. His 
face was as pallid as its well-seasoned color would 
allow, and he looked straight before him with an air 
which seemed to indicate that he was trying to re¬ 
member something terrible, or else trying to forget 
it, and that he himself did not know which it was. 

Colonel Macon did not stay long in the parlor. 
There was that in the air of Mrs Keswick which 
made him understand that there were other places in 
Richmond where he would be much more welcome 
than in that room. He went down into the large 
hall where the gentlemen generally congregate ; and 
there, in great distress of mind, he paced up and down 
the marble floor, exchanging nothing but the briefest 
salutations and answers with the acquaintances he 
occasionally encountered. The clerk, behind his 
desk at one side of the hall, had seen men walking 
up and down in that way, and he thought that the 
colonel had probably been speculating in tobacco or 
wheat ; but he knew he was good for the amount of 
his bill, and he retained his placidity. 

In about half an hour, there came down the stairs, 
at one end of the hall, an elderly person who some¬ 
what resembled Mr Brandon of Midbranch. The 


The Late Mrs Null, 


431 


clothes and the hat were the same that that gentle 
man wore, and the same heavy gold chain with 
dangling seal-rings hung across his ample waistcoat; 
but there was a general air of haggardness and stoop 
about him which did not in the least suggest the 
upright and portly gentleman who had written his 
name in the hotel register the day before yesterday. 

Colonel Macon made five strides towards him, and 
seized his hand. “ What,” said he, “ how-? ” 

Mr Brandon did not look at him; he let his eyes 
fall where they chose ; it mattered not to him what 
they gazed upon ; and, in a low voice, he said : “ It 
is all over.” 

“ Over ! ” repeated the colonel. 

Mr Brandon put a feeble hand on his friend’s arm, 
and together they walked into the reading room, 
where they sat down in a corner. 

“ Have you settled it then ? ” asked Colonel Macon 
with great anxiety. “ Is she gone ? ” 

It is settled,” said Mr. Brandon. “ We are to 
be married.” 

Married ! ” cried Colonel Macon, springing to his 
feet. Great Heavens, man ! What do you mean?” 

Not very fluently, and in sentences with a very 
few words in each of them, but words that sank like 
hot coals into the soul of his hearer, Mr Brandon 
explained what he meant. It had been of no use, 
he said, to try to get out of it; the old woman had 
him with the grip of a vise. That letter had done 
it all. He ought to have known that she was not to 
be frightened, but it was needless to talk about that. 



432 


The Late Mrs Null, 


It was all over now, and he was as much bound to 
her as if he had promised before a magistrate. 

“ But you don’t mean to say,” exclaimed the 
colonel in a voice of anguish, “ that you are really 
going to marry her ? ” 

Sir,” said Mr. Brandon, solemnly, “ there is no 
way to get out of it. If you think there is, you 
don’t know the woman.” 

“ I would have died first ! ” said the colonel. “ I 
never would have submitted to her! ” 

“I did not submit,” replied Mr. Brandon. “That 
was done when the letter was written. I roused 
myself, and I said everything I could say, but it was 
all useless, she held me to my promise. I told her 
I would fly to the ends of the earth rather than 
marry her, and then, sir, she threatened me with 
a prosecution for breach of promise; and think 
of the disgrace that that would bring upon me; 
upon my family name; and on my niece and her 
young husband. It was a mistake, sir, to suppose 
that she merely wished to persecute me. She wished 
to marry me, and she is going to do it.” 

The colonel bowed his face upon his hands, and 
groaned. Mr Brandon looked at him with a dim 
compassion in his eyes. “ Do not reproach your¬ 
self, sir,” he said. “We thought we were acting for 
the best.” 

But little more was said, and two crushed old 
gentlemen retired to their rooms. 

In the days of her youth, Mrs Keswick had been 
very well known in Richmond ; and there were a 


The Late Mrs NulL 


433 


good many elderly ladies and gentlemen, now living 
in that city, who remembered her as a handsome, 
sparkling, and somewhat eccentric young woman, 
and who had since heard of her as a decidedly ec¬ 
centric old one. Mr Brandon, also, had a large 
circle of friends and acquaintances in the city; and 
when it became known that these two elderly 
persons were to be married—and the news began to 
spread shortly after Mrs Keswick reached the house 
of the friend with whom she was staying—it excited 
a great deal of excusable interest. 

Mrs Keswick, according to her ordinary methods 
of action, took all the arrangements into her own 
hands. She appointed the wedding for the eighth 
of January, in order that the happy pair might 
go to New York, and be present at the nuptials of 
Junius and Roberta. Mr Brandon had thought of 
writing to Junius, in the hope that the young man 
might do something to avert his fate, but remember¬ 
ing how utterly unable Junius had always been to 
move his aunt one inch, this way or that, he did not 
believe that he could be of any service in this case, 
in which all the energies of her mind were evidently 
engaged, and he readily consented that she should 
attend to all the correspondence. It would, indeed, 
have been too hard for him to break the direful truth 
to his niece and Junius. He ventured to suggest 
that Miss Peyton be sent for, having a faint hope 
that he might in some manner lean upon her; but 
Mrs Keswick informed him that her niece must 
stay at home to take charge of the place. There 
28 


434 


The Late Mrs NtdL 


were two women in the house, who were busy sew¬ 
ing for her, and it would be impossible for her to 
come to Richmond. 

Her correspondence kept the Widow Keswick 
very busy. She decided that she would be married 
in a church which she used to attend in her youth ; 
and to all of her old friends, and to all those of Mr 
Brandon whose names she could learn by diligent 
inquiry, invitations were sent to attend the cere¬ 
mony ; but no one outside of Richmond was in¬ 
vited. 

The old lady did not come to the city with a 
purple sun-bonnet and a big umbrella. She wore 
her best bonnet, which had been used for church¬ 
going purposes for many years, and arrayed her¬ 
self in a travelling suit which was of excellent 
material, although of most antiquated fashion. 
She discussed very freely, with her friends, the 
arrangements she had made, and protuberant can¬ 
dor being at times one of her most noticeable char¬ 
acteristics, she did not leave it altogether to others 
to say that the match she was about to make was a 
most remarkably good one. For years it had been 
a hard struggle for her to keep up the Keswick 
farm, but now she had fought a battle, and won a 
victory, which ought to make her comfortable and 
satisfied for the rest of her life. If Mr Brandon’s 
family had taken a great deal from her, she would 
more than repay herself by appropriating the old 
gentleman, together with his possessions. 

After the depression following the first shock. 


The Late Mrs Null. 


435 


Mr Brandon endeavored to stiffen himself. There 
was a great deal of pride in him, and if he was 
obliged to go to the altar, he did not wish his old 
friends to suppose that he was going there to be 
sacrificed. He had brought this dreadful thing 
upon himself, but he would try to stand up like a 
man, and bear it; and, after all, it might not be for 
long; the Widow Keswick was a good deal older 
than he was. Other thoughts occasionally came to 
comfort him; she could not make him continually 
live with her, and he had plans for visits to Rich¬ 
mond, and even to New York; and, better than 
that, she might want to spend a good deal of time 
at her own farm. 

For the sake of my name, and my niece,” he said 
to himself, I must bear it like a man.” 

And, in answer to an earnest adjuration. Colonel 
Pinckney Macon solemnly promised that he would 
never reveal, to man or woman, that his friend did 
not marry the Widow Keswick entirely of his own 
wish and accord. 

It was the desire of Mrs Keswick that the mar¬ 
riage, although conducted in church, should be very 
simple in its arrangements. There would be no 
bridesmaids or groomsmen; no flowers; no breakfast; 
and the couple would be dressed in travelling cos¬ 
tume. The friends of the old lady persuaded her to. 
make considerable changes in her attire, and a cos¬ 
tume was speedily prepared, which, while it sug¬ 
gested the fashions of the present day, was also cal¬ 
culated to recall reminiscences of those of a quarter 


43^ 


The Late Mrs Null, 


of a century ago. This simplicity was the only 
thing connected with the affair which satisfied Mr 
Brandon, and he would have been glad to have the 
marriage entirely private, with no more witnesses 
than the law' demanded. But to this Mrs Keswick 
would not consent. She wanted to have her former 
friends about her. Accordingly, the church was 
pretty well filled with old colonels, old majors, old 
generals, and old judges, with their wives and their 
sisters, and, in a few cases, their daughters^ All the 
elderly people in Richmond, who, in the days of their 
youth, had known the gay Miss Matty Pettigrew, 
and the handsome Bob Brandon, felt a certain reju¬ 
venation of spirit as they went to the wedding of the 
couple, who had once been these two. 

The old lady looked full of life and vigor, and, de¬ 
spite the circumstances, Mr Brandon preserved a 
good deal of his usual manly deportment. But, 
when in the course of the marriage service, the cler¬ 
gyman came to the question in which the bride¬ 
groom was asked if he would have this woman to be 
his wedded wife, to love and keep her for the rest of 
their lives, the answer, “ I will,” came forth in a 
feeble tone, which was not wholly divested of a tinge 
of despondency. 

With the lady it was quite otherwise. When the 
like question was put to her, she stepped back, and 
in a loud, clear voice, exclaimed: “Not I! Marry 
that man, there ? ” she continued in a higher tone, and 
pointing her finger at the astounded Mr. Brandon. 
“ Not for the world, sir! Before he was born, his 



The Late Mrs Null. 


437 


family defrauded and despoiled my people, and as 
soon as he took affairs into his own hands, he con¬ 
tinued the villainous law robberies until we are poor, 
and he is rich ; and, not content with that, he basely 
wrecks and destroys the plans I had made for the 
comfort of my old age, in order that his paltry 
purposes may be carried out. After all that, does 
anybody here suppose that I would take him for a 
husband? Marry him ! Not I! ” And, with these 
words, the old lady turned her back on the clergy¬ 
man, and walked rapidly down the centre aisle, until 
she reached the church door. There she stopped, 
and turning towards the stupefied assemblage, she 
snapped her bony fingers in the air, and exclaimed: 
“ Now, Mr Robert Brandon of Midbranch, our ac¬ 
count is balanced.” 

She then went out of the door, and took a street 
car for the train that would carry her to her home. 


THE END. 


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1 


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I 


i 





RIEF LIST OF BOOKS OF FICTION 
PUBLISHED BY CHARLES SCRIBNER’S 
SONS, 743-745 BROADWAY, NEW YORK. 


William Waldorf Astor. 

VALENTINO: An Historical Romance. (l2mo, $1.00).—SFORZA: A Story 
Milan. (l2mo, $1.50.) 

“ The story is full of clear-cut little tableaux of mecliseval Italian 
manners, customs, and observances. The movement throughout is 
spirited, the reproduction of bygone times realistic. Mr. Astor has 
written a romance which will heighten the reputation he made by 
‘ Valentino.’ ”— The New York Tribune. 

Arlo Bates, 

A WHEEL OF FIRE. (l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00.) 

“The novel deals with character rather than incident, and is 
evolved from one of the most terrible of moral problems with a 
subtlety not unlike that of Hawthorne. One cannot enumerate all 
the fine points of artistic skill which make this study so wonderful 
in its insight, so rare in its combination of dramatic power and 
tenderness .”—The Critic. 


Hjalmar H. Boyesen. 

FALCONBERG. Illustrated (l2mo, $1.50)—GUNNAR. (Sq. l2mo, paper, 
50 cts.; cloth, $1.25)—TALES FROM TWO HEMISPHERES. (Sq. l2mo, 
$1.00)—ILKA ON THE HILL TOP, and Other Stories. (Sq. l2mo, $1.00) 
—QUEEN TITANIA (Sq. l2mo, $1.00). 

“ Mr. Boyesen’s stories possess a sweetness, a tenderness, and a 
drollery that are fascinating, and yet they are no more attractive 
than they are strong .”—The Home Journal. 

H. C, Gunner, 

THE STORY OF A NEW YORK HOUSE. Illustrated by A. B. Frost. (l2mo, 
$1.25)—THE MIDGE. (l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $l.00)-ZADOC PINE, 
and Other Stories. (l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00.) 

“It is Mr. Banner’s delicacy of touch and appreciation of what 
is literary art that give his writings distinctive quality. Everything 
Mr. Bunner paints shows the happy appreciation of an author who 
has not alone mental discernment, but the artistic appreciation. 
The author and the artist both supplement one another in this ex¬ 
cellent ‘Story of a New York House .’”—The New York Times. 



« 


SCRIBNER’S BRIEF LIST OF FICTION. 


Frances Hodgson Burnett, 

THAT LASS O’ LOWRIE’S. Illustrated (paper, 50 cts. ; cloth, $1.25)— 
HAWORTH’S. Illustrated (l2mo, $1.25)—THROUGH ONE ADMINISTRA¬ 
TION. (|2mo, $I.50)-LOUISIANA. (l2mo, $1.25)—A FAIR BARBARIAN. 
(l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.25)—VAGABONDIA. A Love Story. (l2mo, 
paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.25)—SURLY TIM, and Other Stories. (l2mo, $1.25) 
EARLIER STORIES—First Series, EARLIER STORIES—Second Series 
(l2mo, each, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.25). 

THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOsL Illustrated by C. S. Rheinhart (l2mo, $1.00). 

LITTLE LORD FAUNTLEROY. (Sq. 8vo, $2.00) —SARA CREWE; or, 
What Happened at Miss Minchin’s. (Sq. 8vo, *$1.00)—LITTLE SAINT 
ELIZABETH, and Other Stories. (l2mo, $1.50.) Illustrated by R. B. Birch. 

“ Mrs. Burnett discovers gracious secrets in rough and forbidding 
natures—the sweetness that often underlies their bitterness—the soul 
of goodness in things evil. She seems to have an intuitive percep¬ 
tion of character. If we apprehend her personages, and I think we 
do clearly, it is not because she describes them to us, but because 
they reveal themselves in their actions. Mrs. Burnett’s characters 
are as veritable as Thackeray’s.”— Richard Henry Stoddard. 

William Allen Butler, 

DOlvitoTICUS. A Tale of the Imperial City. (l2mo, $1.25.) 

“ Under a veil made intentionally transparent, the author main¬ 
tains a running fire of good-natured hits at contemporary social 
follies. There is a delicate love story running through the book. 
The author’s style is highly finished. One might term it old-fashioned 
in its exquisite choiceness and precision.”— The New York Journal 
of Commerce, 

George W, Cable, 

THE GRANDISSIMES. (l2mo, paper, 50 cts. ; cloth, $1.25)—OLD CREOLE 
DAYS. (l2mo, cloth, $1.25; also in two parts, l6mo, cloth, each, 75 cts.; 
paper, each, 30 cts.)—DR. SEVIER. (l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.25)— 
BONAVENTURE. A Prose Pastoral of Arcadian Louisiana. (l2mo, paper, 
50 cts. ; $1.25.) 

The set, 4 vols., $5.00. 

“There are few living American writers who can reproduce for 
us more perfectly than Mr. Cable does, in his best moments, the 
speech, the manners, the whole social atmosphere of a remote time 
and a peculiar people. A delicious flavor of humor penetrates his 
stories.”— The New York Tribune. 



3 




SCRIBNER’S BRIEF LIST OF FICTION. 


Richard Harding Davis. 

GALLEGHER, and Other Stories. (l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00.) 

The ten stories comprising this volume attest the appearance of a 
new and strong individuality in the field of American fiction. They 
are of a wide range and deal with very varied types of metropolitan 
character and situation ; but each proves that Mr. Davis knows 
his New York as well as Dickens did his London. 

Edward Eggleston, 

ROXY—THE CIRCUIT RIDER. Illustrated (each l2mo, $!.50). 

“Dr. Eggleston’s fresh and vivid portraiture of a phase of life 
and manners, hitherto almost unrepresented in literature ; its boldly 
contrasted characters, and its unconventional, hearty, religious spirit, 
took hold of the public imagination.”— The Christian Union. 

Erckmann-Chatrian . 

THE CONSCRIPT, Illustrated—WATERLOO. Illustrated. (Sequel to The 
Conscript.)—MADAME TKlffifSE-THE BLOCKADE OF PHAL8BURG. 
Illustrated—THE INVASION OF FRANCE IN 1814. Illustrated - A 
MILLER’S STORY OF THE WAR. Illustrated. 

The National Novels, each, %i.2^ ; the set 6 vols., $7.50. 

FRIEND FRITZ. (l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $I.25T) 

Eugene Field, 

A LITTLE BOOK OF PROFITABLE TALES. (l6mo, $1.25.) 

“ This pretty little volume promises to perpetuate examples of a 
wit, humor, and pathos quaint and rare in their kind. Genial and 
sympathetic, Mr. Field has already made a mark in the literature 
of the day, which will not quickly wear out. ”— New York Tribune. 

Harold Frederic, 

SETH’S BROTHER’S WIFE. (l2mo, $1 25)—THE LAWTON GIRL. (l2mo, 
$1.25; paper, 50 cts.)—IN THE VALLEY. Illustrated (l2mo, $1.50). 

“ Mr. Frederic’s new tale takes a wide range, includes many 
characters, and embraces a field of action full of dramatic climaxes. 
It is almost reasonable to assert that there has not been since 
Cooper’s day a better American novel dealing with a purely his¬ 
torical theme than ‘ In the Valley,’ ”— Boston Beacon. 

Octave Thanet, 

EXPIATION. Illlistrated by A. B. Frost. (l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00.) 

“ This remarkable novel shows an extraordinary grasp of drama¬ 
tic possibilities as well as an exquisite delicacy of character drawing. 
Miss French has with this work taken her place among the very 
foremost of American writers of fiction.”— Boston Beacon. 



4 


SCRtBNER’S BRIEF LIST OF FICTION 



James Anthony Froude. 

THE TWO CHIEFS OF DUN BOY. An Irish Romance of the Last Century. 
(l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $h50,) 


“The narrative is full of vigor, spirit, and dramatic power. It ^ 
^yill unquestionably be widely read, for it presents a vivid and life- 
like study of character with romantic color and adventurous incident ^ t 

•i- 

I 

“ This is a well-told story, the interest of which turns upon a gaifie 
of cross purposes between an accomplished English girl, posing as a 
free and easy American Daisy Miller, and an American gentleman, 
somewhat given to aping the manners of the English.”— The 
Buffalo Express. 


for the background.”— The New York Tribune. 

Robert Grant, 

FACE TO FACE. (l2mo, paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.25.) 


Edward Everett Hale, 

PHILIP NOLAN’S FRIENDS. Illustrated (l2mo. Paper, 50 cents; Cloth, 
$1.75.) 

“ There is no question, we think, that this is Mr. Hale’s com- 
pletest and best novel. The characters are for the most part well 
drawn, and severe of them are admirable.”— The Atlantic Monthly. 


Marion Harland, 

JUDITH: A Chronicle of Old Virginia. (l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00) 
—HANDICAPPED. (l2mo, $I.50).-WITH THE BEST INTENTIONS. 
A Midsummer Episode. (l2mo. Cloth, $1.25; Paper, 50 cents.) 

“ Fiction has afforded no more charming glimpses of old Virginia 
life than are found in this delightful story, with its quaint pictures, 
its admirably drawn characters, its wit, and its frankness.”— Tho 
Brooklyn Daily Times. 

Joel Chandler Harris, 

FREE JOE, and Other Georgian Sketches. (l2mo, paper, 50 cts., cloth, $1.00.) 

“ The author’s skill as a story writer has never been more felic¬ 
itously illustrated than in this volume. The title story is meagre 
almost to baldness in incident, but its quaint humor, its simple but 
broadly outlined characters, and, above all, its touching pathos, 
combine to make it a masterpiece of its kind.”— The New York Sun. 


Augustus Allen Hayes, 

THE JESUIT’S RING. A Romance of Mount Desert (l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; 
cloth, $1.00). 

“The conception of the story is excellent.”— TheBostojt Traveller. 








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